Soggy shoes and lying waterproof jackets dull my day that bit more. Fucking £50 this twatting jacket was from the sports shop, 'waterproof' my arse, I'm as dry as a river.
Yet I still trod on through the mud on the forest floor, listening for the tell-tale sound of sobs or the smell of green. Either or will point me in the direction of my Katie.
With each step I count how many times I've trekked into the woods this month, its 5 so far if I remember correctly and we're not even halfway through October. I even bought the stupid rain jacket when the English weather hit a new level of baltic to prevent myself from catching my death of cold.
Little specks of the moon peak through the branches above me, my surroundings creepy enough to be the setting for a horror movie but I've come to find them comforting, because if she's here she's not elsewhere in trouble.
A sigh I didn't know I was holding tumbles out my mouth as I fight the thick mud that's willing me to stay put.
The deeper I move into the forest the closer the trunks seem to get, the rough bark scratches at my already torn up hands and grazes my face. Great now I'll have to explain that to my overbearing mother who panics over a bruise I got from simply walking into the door handle.
Thinking about my own mother causes my heart to swell up and go turgid with guilt, because the girl I'm searching for wouldn't know the feeling of much behind her fingernails if she'd been graced with the good set of parents. The couple that tried to change, not the couple that tried to disintegrate the bridge of their nose with a certain white powder.
A scream in the distance automatically influences my feet to quicken their pace, dodging fallen logs and discarded disposable barbeques to find the blonde that consumes my thoughts with constant worry.
From a distance I assess the situation, making a game plan. she's sat cross legged on a tree stump not much bigger than the average car wheel. Her arms wrap around frame as if shes holding herself together and her hair clings haphazardly to her face and neck, leaving it skewed from my view, but from the smell that hits me from the short distance I know tonight she isn't sober, just like yesterday and the day before that and even the one before that and all the ones previous since she gained enough awareness of her situation in the world to decide she didn't want it, instead opting for a hallucination of life instead of the real thing.
Rain drops smack me in the forehead after I've given up with the hood of my coat, giving it the win. The useless toggles of the hood staring at my smugly as I carefully approach Katie. The girl who for the past 17 years has experienced enough heartbreak and misfortune for the whole population, the girl who I can't judge no matter how many pills she takes or joints she smokes, the girl who I've cared for at her worst and will continue to do so, because she's my mess, my drug addict, my Katie. The one girl who I'd give up everything for if she asked.
"Katie" I whisper, pulling a half-smoked roll from her fingers, noting her nails that are freshly painted blue, a sign today started out good. Blue is her happy colour, orange is her sad, yellow is coping and pink screams to leave her alone, not that I ever do. She's never explicitly told me the reasoning behind the colours or that they even mean what I've just said, but I've known her long enough and watched her movements countless times to correlate the colour with an emotion, and they always link.
"Ol" she greets me, muffled through her mouth on her arm. Piercing blue eyes bare into mine, tears spilling from them and travelling over clear pale skin, over the bumps of her defined cheek bones and resting in the divot above her lips, ones that are trembling.
"Its time for home" I inform her, resting a gentle hand on her back, trying my best not to go full cave man and start a fire when I discover her clothes soaked to the bone.
Tearing off my jacket I hold it over one shoulder as I pull a shaking Katie to her feet. I thread her nimble arms through the raincoat, zipping it up to beneath her chin and tugging at those god forsaken toggles to keep it over her head, only the centre of her face left visible.
All worries about getting ill vacate my mind as quickly as they came as I lead her silently back through the forest. After our first forest run in a few years ago and the following events of getting lost I've learnt that temporary chalk is the best option to keep my way, leaving a Hansel and Gretel like trail in the form of red X's on trees to navigate my way home.
Silence does scary things to my brain, while others thrive in the silence I crumble, my brain takes over and starts whirring the creative side of it to life, painting vivid images on Katie crumpled on the floor after she finally met her limit, or me getting to her too late after she sent me another inconspicuous message about her appreciation for me. I hate those. They're the worst, in any other circumstance they sound completely normal, but in ours that's far from normal they mean another pack of bandages and a follow up hospital trip if I don't get there quick enough. One time was my capacity and I'll never allow a repeat.
While some might think she's selfish for placing it on me I could never view it that way, it's an honour to be the one she trusts enough with her broken pieces, to let me reassemble her every night, finding that puzzle piece that's been missing, replacing her batteries, helping her recharge and rid herself of the viruses that attack her software. Because Katies mind is my favourite thing about her and I'd rather die than allow any permanent damage to come its way. This girl is my saviour as much as I'm hers. She gives me a reason to want my future, and not to hide under the guise of the dumb blonde, she makes me want to be better because by some miracle I might become good enough for her, deserving of her and when that day comes, if it ever does I'll take full advantage because I haven't spent 17 years loving this girl to not continue it on for the rest of my life.
She cuddles into my side, her body wracked with shivers that I regretfully know aren't just from the cold. Wrapping my arm around her i drag it up and down her side, trying to warm her up. My t-shirt is soaked through and the hairs on my arms are skewed in different patterns from the rain, skin cold and blood colder yet I couldn't feel more warm mentally knowing she's safe.
"What was is this time?" I ask gently, trying to coerce her into telling me the cause for today's forest freak out.
She stays quiet for a moment, her face thoughtful as such stares ahead, rain drops travelling slowly down the bridge of her nose, and as I swipe them away those midnight eyes tare into mine, full of pain and torment that I wish I could bare the load of, but instead I've got to watch her struggle.
"Tereasa died" she states matter of factly.
Her mother. My god mother. Her abuser. My mother's ex best friend.
Dead.
