I’ve never felt so clueless, so afraid, in my life. I had no idea where we were. Or where they were.
As night was rolling in, a nurse who came to check on Marcus ordered me and Dillon out and back to our own rooms. When we reach mine, Dillon stops me after I open the door.
“Wait.”
“What?” I ask him. He brushes the hair off my cheek and plants a kiss on it. Before I can say anything, he’s gone.
I climb into bed, trying to ignore the pain from every open wound that had been stitched shut. I close my eyes, only to find that sleep is out of the question. Scarlet seemed nice, but I just couldn’t trust her yet. Trust. Happiness. Love. They were all being contradicted by the fear that was eating my insides. I realize how much I didn’t want to be alone. How much I fear something will happen to Olivia, Marcus, or Dillon and I wouldn’t be there to save them. Like Rose.
I feel so trapped in my tiny room. Trapped, but still as vulnerable. My body complains as I start to pace around the room. My head most of all still throbs with pain. For the first time, I notice my backpack thrown on a chair and that my necklace is no longer around my neck. As I sort through its contents, and thankfully find my necklace, the door creaks open. I turn with a start.
“Just me,” Marcus whispers.
“What are you doing here? I ask him. He limps over to me, trying to hide grimaces of pain. He kneels down on the floor so that we’re face to face.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks with a faint smile. “I wanted to see you.” His eyes train me. They follow as I look across his face; from his matted chestnut waves to his lips that had once touched my cheek. I look down at the necklace.
“Allow me,” he says softly. He slides behind me and sweeps my blonde hair in front of my shoulder. Then he grabs the necklace from my hand, drapes it in front of me, and fastens the clasp. As I turn to face him, he gathers up my hair and lets it loose down my back. Marcus’s face, illuminated by the moonlight shining through the small window, holds a look I can’t exactly define. Compassion, maybe.
“Does Dillon hate me?” he asks.
“No,” I answer truthfully. “He just loves me.” I couldn’t look at him when I uttered those words.
“What about you? How do you feel?” he tilts my chin up and I have no choice but to lay my eyes on him.
“Deathly afraid,” I whisper. He pulls me into his arms and holds me tightly as I do the same.
I didn’t remember getting back into bed or falling asleep. But the next thing I know, the sun’s rays replace the moonlight. My head rests on Marcus’s good leg. I didn’t remember him staying either.
“Did you sleep last night?” I ask him.
“I think it’d be better if I didn’t answer that,” he says. That meant no. The clock beside me flashes 6:30.
“You still have time to get some rest.”
“I’ll be fine. Actually, I should go back to my room. Olivia might worry.” I slowly lift my head, which still pounds with pain. I let him lean on my shoulder as we slowly hobble back to his room.
“See you later,” he says outside the door. He gives me the lightest of kisses on my forehead before stepping inside.
When I get back to my room, a tray with a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of water sits on the bedside table. I shovel down spoonfuls of oatmeal and take swigs of water until the bowl and glass are empty. The oatmeal didn’t have much flavor, but was food nonetheless.
I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling. What if we weren’t brought here? What if none of this ever happened? If I were still living with Rose, three doors down from Marcus and Olivia, across the way from Dillon. If we hadn’t encountered the men from the other village. If Rose and everyone’s parents were still alive.
In the midst of my thoughts, I find sleep.
“Skye,” Olivia says in a loud whisper as she gently shakes my shoulder. When I open my eyes, it’s nine-thirty.
The four of us find our way to the headmistress’s office. We exit the infirmary and walk down many maple wood door lined halls. There’s no one around. After wandering around for quite a while, we find her office on the top floor of the building.
“There are over two hundred kids here,” the headmistress says once we’re seated in her office. Her name is Evangeline Baumann, but we are to call her Headmistress Baumann. She had long, flawless black hair that swept behind her like a cape when she walked from Marcus to Dillon. From one side to the other. “All orphans or runaways. All without parents. All alone.” Her strong voice. The stiff expression on her face. The fact I didn’t know where we were. The fact I was about to find out. It all scares me. “We put you to work so you have a purpose here. Please fill these out for your records.” She shoves four papers and pens toward us, then steps out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
All the forms asked about was our name, age, birthday, where we lived, and why we were alone. Then, we waited restlessly for her to return. Work? What kind of work? How long were we supposed to stay here? The door clicks open and Headmistress Baumann glides in holding a cup of coffee. She scoops up our papers, takes a quick glance at them, then places four new sheets of paper in front of us.
“Here are you room numbers, the schedules for each day, and some rules. Now go get your things and find your rooms. Lunch is at twelve sharp.
After I got my backpack and the others got their things, we set off to find our rooms. The boys’ rooms are on the fourth floor and girls’ rooms on the third. Olivia and I push open the door to room 326, but I didn’t want to go in.
I wanted to go home.
No comments:
Post a Comment