Hunter Prey

one

the breeze is nice.

the window half-down, the millions of spindly trees whizzing by (that I've counted so far) inches from my face, eager to lay a fragile leaf against the warm flesh of my skin, but alas, I remain in the scorching oasis of my sister's aging sage green van, the faint thuds of the engine a melted comfort.

I giggle, dizzy from my eyes trying to keep up with the running trees. I blame it on the relentless hours of this prolonged car-ride, though. I can't ignore the stinging soreness in my butt and the crampy aches in my toes.

At the thought I stretch them in my clingy fuzzy socks, shoes off.

I shoot a glance at my older sister, Ceceria. Her bluntly cut chocolate bob tied in a messily put together bun of sorts, I dunno. A few strands curl around her sculpted face, the beauty mark by the top of her lip a dark brown, her lips round and full, pursed as she taps her stubby fingers against the furry wheel.

I purse my own lips, bored. I huff as I glance at her pistachio green eyes from the rear-view mirror.

Am I jealous?

Maybe.

Will I admit it?

Probably, if a milky way is involved.

I prompt my feet up against the seat next to mine with a whine. "Are we almost there?" I may have asked that sixteen times in the last twenties minutes, but what's once more, right? Yolo.

"Orla, quit it, will you?" She scolds. "I'm trying to figure out where we—I mean," she squints her eyes.

"We're lost?!" I squeak, sitting up. "Cece! Are you kidding me? Do you know how easy it is to listen to the gps? It's literally on the big screen in front of you." I mentally facepalm. She puckers her lips. "Shut up."

"No you."

"No you."

"I said it first." I counter.

"I said it second."

Silence.

"I think you were supposed to take that turn-"

"Damn it, Orla!"

Ultimately, it took thirty minutes, seven u-turns, three hits on the brakes, and sunset later, when we arrived to the destination.

"Woah." I gasp softly, putting half of my torso out of the window as we pull into the driveway. "Two-hundred dollars well spent, I shall say." I whistle. My sister rolls her eyes, putting the van into park. It shudders with a few awkward grunts, before ceasing movement.

She definitely needs a new car.

I push the door open and step out, taking in a fresh breath of air. Mmm, nature.

I turn and glance at Ceceria. "What did you tell mom?" I inquire, all but skipping towards the trunk where she stands, using a stupid ton of strength to yank her unusually large suitcase out of the stuffed trunk.

"Told her we were having a..educational sister-to-sister," she grunts. "..-get away-!" She squeals, falling on her butt as her suitcase pops out, falling atop her.

I stare dumbfounded for a solide minute.

"Aren't you going to help me, idiot?"

"Oh, right."

I lift the heavy suitcase, watching her stand with a whine, rubbing her back. Ouch.

I eye the cabin. It is beautiful. Two story, surrounded by colorful foliage, flowers: a mini garden, pebble walkway and wooden stairs up to a wondrous porch, two door front door, french, of course, and a small balcony in the middle of the second floor.

I do a mini twirl, taking in my surroundings. I can't help but feel a prickle rise on my skin, the hair on my nape rising as a chilling cool fills my senses.

As if im being watched...