The Normals | ✓

O N E

A R D E N

I had no idea where she had come from.

Obviously somewhere horrible, judging by the bloodstains on the compartment floor and the terrified look she gave me when I saw her. We had stared at each other for not even a minute before her eyes closed and she slumped to the ground. For a moment, I had thought she was dead, but it turned out she was simply unconscious or sleeping or something. Her leg was bleeding and I debated bringing her to the hospital (do people even need them anymore?), but ended up just bringing her home and putting her in the guest room, which so rarely got used.

Which brings me here, now. Sitting on a chair next to the bed with a cold mug of tea on my lap, trying to figure this girl out.

She doesn't look like she's from around here -- not because of her face, but simply because she stands out. She doesn't wear the same things as us, and she almost has a sort of wild look about her. And I can't ask her where she came from because she's asleep, and has been for the past eight hours.

Gwen appears at the doorway with a plate of mini sandwiches. "Still nothing?" she asks.

I reach up and steal one. "Nope. She's been asleep since I brought her back. Woke up once to yell something at the wall and then went back to sleep."

Gwen hmms at the sandwich in my hand, then turns her attention back to me. "My parents want me home in half an hour, but I need to leave in about ten minutes because I have to pick up some stuff from work. Can you tell your mom I'm sorry for wasting ten minutes of her time while you snuck her in here?" She laughs, nodding her head at the sleeping girl, and takes a few steps out the door, pulling it almost closed. "Oh, and let me know if she wakes up, okay?"

"Will do," I reply. Gwen leaves, closing the door behind her. Turning back to the girl, I contemplate searching her bags, which I had put on the chair across from me. When I found her, she had been carrying one on her back and another one was strewn across the floor as well as a pair of boots, a gun, and a jacket. I disabled the gun as soon as I got home and put it somewhere safe. As for her belongings, I was tempted to go through them, but I know nothing of this girl or what kind of things could be in that bag, and I was too afraid she would wake up and find me in the middle of going through them.

I stare at the bags, trying to see through them. No such luck. So, like the impulsive person I am, I glance at the girl to make sure she really is asleep, and then grab the bags and set them down at my feet.

I half expect her to wake up from that, but she stays where she is, curled up and facing the wall. Very slowly and as quietly as I can, I unzip the first bag and pull it open. Inside are the usual components of a backpack: extra clothes, a few containers of stale-looking food, a small blanket, some crumpled bandages, a box of matches, and various other things. The second one holds the same sort of stuff as well as a second gun (Where did she get all of this stuff?), a bag of pencils, a small notebook, another gun (Seriously, where did she get all this?), and a sketchbook. I set all of the belongings on the table between both chairs, and slowly go through them one by one.

I unfold, dust off, and fold back up all the clothing I find and make a pile. Some of the clothes are bigger than the others, but they all look relatively the same. Pretty simple-looking, yet comfortable and functional.

Next, I go through the food. The majority of it is stale or old, but there are a few sealed cans which I set aside. Mom will probably question them, but Dad will sweep them away and most likely make something good with them. His food is better, anyway.

The small blanket I place over the girl. She was shivering in her sleep, and I felt bad for her. It doesn't do much for the shivering, but I feel a bit better about going through her stuff while she's asleep.