The Shining City

Chapter 2: The Raid

"He's fine Cyn, fell asleep in about thirty seconds though," I vaguely heard a voice talking, their words were hushed.

"I don't want to wake him..."

"Cyn, I didn't want to ask while he was awake... but"

Cynthia voice interrupted Bart sharply, "'but' what?"

"You've been so on edge since he collapsed, more so than when the others are sick... is there something you aren't telling me?"

I was fully conscious now, my ears unnecessarily strained to hear the voices no more than six feet from me. I kept my face firmly planted in the new makeshift pillow Bart must have shifted me onto.

"Bart..." Cynthia pleaded.

"Please, whatever it is..."

I heard Cynthia sigh. "When my mother and I first found him, I didn't see his parents."

"What do you mean?"

"Once we brought him back here," she continued, "my mother asked me to go back and see if I could find any of his things... I supposed she assumed I had already seen his parents lying there." She stopped for a minute. "I hadn't,"

A few moments of silence followed. I felt something tug at the bottom of my blanket. I cracked my eyes to see what it was. Cynthia was adjusting her position on the ground at my feet next to Bart. He put his arm around her as she resumed.

"I was only 13, I hadn't really seen death yet, my mother shielded me before... but when I searched the alley for anything that he might've had, I saw death. I saw it on his parents' faces. I had nightmares for years..."

"Cynth-" Bart mumbled.

"He looks just like they did... and I can't help but wonder how they died," she whispered then scoffed at herself, "Thirteen years later and I'm still just as..." She stopped but I still understood what she was trying to say.

I'd never heard her talk about the day she and her mother had found me. I rarely thought about my parents. I didn't remember them at all, they had died when I was about three. It never really occurred to me that Cynthia knew their faces better than I did, and it definitely never occurred to me that I looked like them.

I felt Cynthia and Barts' eyes on me. Barely opening my eyes, I watched Cynthia grimace and reach toward me. At the last moment, she pulled away, holding her hand to her heart. "I don't want to wake him," she breathed.

"I know, believe me," Bart told her, "But he has to eat,"

The crackle of the pebbles on the ground and a soft grunt told me someone was standing up. A few seconds later, I felt a warm hand lightly shaking my shoulder. "Hey Seb, wake up," Cynthia reluctantly pulled the blankets off my body. The sudden exposure to cold air jolted me fully awake. An uncontrollable shiver worked its way through my body.

I opened my eyes to glare at her, but my stomach betrayed me when I saw the food in her hands. I sat up slowly. I honestly couldn't remember when I had last eaten. Resting against the brick, I offered my hands to Cynthia.

"Eat slowly," she warned, placing a piece of bread, a slice of cheese, and an apple in my hands. "The last thing you need is to be vomiting,"

I nodded and they both walked away, presumably to give me some space. What Cynthia had said was still bouncing around in my thoughts, but what bothered me more was how easily she had hidden what she said and acted like nothing was wrong as soon as she knew I was awake. I wondered how often she did that, shoved her emotions down and put a mask on.