Hope: The Runaway

...Ink.

August 11, after morning

Wow, what my luck turned into.

While I was walking tiredly on the street, I spotted some farmland and I started to walk through the plants. I wasn't sure what they were, because there were tiny little flowers on the stems and they were all either pink or white. And then, I spotted a barn.

A barn!

It was a few yards away, and it looked super old. I didn't hear any animals though, so I walked towards it and tried to open it. I noticed a lock on it, so I searched through my bag to find something I could pick the lock with.

I totally forgot about these.

The keys to the library.

I started to take one key after another and tried to push it though the lock. Most of them wouldn't even fit, but two would stick inside it. But it wouldn't open.

I started to look around myself to see if there was anything, anything I could use to open the door. I rubbed my shoulders and squinted. Man, it was cold out here. I needed to find something.

"Who's there?" A low voice yelled though the still night, breaking the silence. I froze. Don't freeze! Move! I told myself. I ducked under the high plants and waited.

"I said who's there?" The voice called again. I heard footsteps growing louder and softer,
Each time going in different directions. The dirt under his feet stayed silent as he walked towards me.

"Brett! Come on, your grandad's waiting!" A woman's voice yelled. "Gram, I thought I heard something! Just go ahead and eat without me, I'll come in a few minutes."

Dang it, just go eat.

I heard a door shut, and I looked behind me. There was a tiny little house painted white. It looked so cozy. Sigh.

Then, a hand grabbed my shoulder and I turned around, my hair whipping my face as I did so.
"Aha! I knew it!" He said, looking at me. He looked about 18 with blonde hair and big, soft green eyes. I stood up, my face flushed and wide-eyed.
"Please. Let me go." I squeaked. He squinted his eyes. "Where are you coming from?" He said, letting his hand off my shoulder and his face relaxing.
"Don't be mad or anything. I ran away, okay? I didn't want anyone to find out. Just let me go, and I'll be out of your way." he sighed and pushed his hair back. "I won't tell anyone, okay? Just let me take you inside so you can eat and wash up. I'll just tell my grandparents your a girl passing by who got lost and I happened to find you." I nodded. He was nice.
As we walked towards the house, I sighed in relief. He turned and smiled. "I'm glad I found you. How old are you?" I looked at his green eyes. He was handsome. "I'm 13." He nodded. He grabbed my hand softly and walked me towards the house. As we walked inside, I saw a woman in the kitchen with snowy white hair and a man who looked about 60 was sitting on the couch, watching TV.
The woman turned and looked at me with soft green eyes, just like Bretts'. "Oh my heavens!" She said, gasping. "Who is this?" She ruffled my hair and cupped my cheek.

"I found her. She was walking and she hid in the bushes. She told me she was lost so I'm gona drive her to town t'morrow and help her find her house." She nodded and smiled at Brett. "Go get a plate for you and this sweetheart. I'll start a bath for her." She looked at me and hugged me. "Your so skinny. Need some food?" I nodded eagerly. All I had today was cereal and a Twinkie. "We're havin' steak and mashed potatoes. Like that?" I smiled. "Yes, please." She chucked and swung her slim arm around my shoulder. "First, let's get you bathed."
I followed her upstairs to a cute little pink bathroom with a pink tub and sink. She sat at the edge of the tub and started the water. "How old are you, honey? If you don't mind me askin'." "I'm 13." She smiled. "Such a young age for a wanderin' girl." She set a towel on the fluffy toilet seat and nodded. "I'll get out of your hair and letcha' take a warm bath." She smiled and walked out.
I looked towards the bathtub and stared at the running water filling the tub. It's been a long time since I'd had one of these, I thought. The woman walked back in and set some clothes on the floor. "These were Brett's pj's when he was your age. Hopefully they fit." She smiled a sweet old lady smile and walked out, shutting the door.

After my warm bath, I walked downstairs with my hair clean, my body clean, and the pj's she gave me (which fit perfectly, except for the shirt being a bit big), and walked downstairs. They all looked at me sitting at the dining table. Brett chucked. "Where'd you find those?" He asked his grandma, and she smiled, chuckling too. "In the back of your closet. Remember? You used to love those pj's." My cheeks turned pink as I sat down at the table. I rubbed my socks against the floor.

She set a plate in front of me that had the yummiest steak and mashed potatoes I've ever seen. She set some apple juice beside me and sat down. "By the way darlin', my name is Sherry." I nodded. "My name is Hope." Crud! Was I supposed to give them my name?
"Well, that's a sweet name." She smiled and patted my shoulder. We started to eat, and every time I glanced up Brett was looking at me. I swear, I wanted to do something about it but I didn't want to be rude.

"Let me take you to the spare bedroom so you can get ready for bed." Sherry said, taking my plate and putting it in the sink, along with the other ones. I glanced up at the clock. 10:04.

"Come on, honey." Sherry said as she took my hand and led me upstairs to a white door. As she opened it, I gasped in fascination. The room was painted in a light pink. A queen bed sat in the middle with pink and white striped sheets. I swear they were made by her. The white desk had a hand-painted mirror with a purple cup with pens and pencils in it. Paper scattered layer on the desk and the closet was wide open. It was a walk-in closet with the most beautiful clothes I've ever seen in my life.

Sherry chucked and pushed my back softly, signaling me to step in. I closed my agape mouth and sighed. "It's... Wonderful. Amazing. Wow." "Thank you hon. It used to be my daughter's room before she moved away. Go on, you can touch anything." I walked over to the desk and touched the pencils, making the silence disappear and replacing it with clinking wood. I smiled. I love the smell of old wood... Ink.

I open the drawer, looking for the inky smell. "Do you have ink in here?" I asked, still looking for the smell. "Why, yes. My daughter used to write on her typewriter." She smiled and opened the closet. I heard her grunt, then clinking sounds of metal. When she came out, she held out and old, black typewriter, covered in dust. She blew on it, making some dust fly around the room. She set it on the desk, examining it. She walked over to the bedside table and opened the drawers, taking an ink bottle out. She opened my hand and put the ink in it. "You have amazing smell."

Her bed is super comfy. That's what happened. Isn't is amazing? After she told me that, I played with the typewriter until it was time I go to bed. I keep looking at it, I want to write more. It's really cool.

Anyway, I'm super tired. I'll write in the morning. This is the life.

1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-1-
HEYAAAAAA!
Will Hope stay with the farmers? Or will she run again... Living life at large?
And I know, I changed her age to 13. I just wanted her to be a teen... =3

Sprite and Cheetos,
Carley