The characters name is pronounced Ma-Kay-She-Anna and her brothers name is pronounced Nath-An-Yell
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I shoved my stuff into my old satchel and grabbed my penknife off my wooden table. I shrugged my bag on walked down the stairs. The smell of chicken I had killed during the morning hunt filled my nose. I walked out the old wooden door. My brother was making chicken soup outside for supper over a blazing fire but I really wasn't hungry. My stomach was too filled with butterflies about what was happening tonight. I was scared. One wrong move I'd be caught and shoved into an overcrowded cement building with iron bars and guards to 'keep it safe'. They called it the safehouse. I call it a cage. Its where you go if you break one of the many rules.
"Where you running off to now Makaysianna?" My brother ,Natheniel, asked not looking up from his cooking.
He was the only one of my family who could cook and he was the eldest so he had to look after us all. He has brown floppy hair that he has to constantly sweep to the side. He has hazel eyes like my mother. His face is square with a chiseled jawline and cheekbones. His skin is honey coloured. Hunched over the pot wearing his old beige jacket, a pair of khaki trousers, a navy blue T-shirt and his big brown hiking boots.
Natheniel stood up slowly and stared into my eyes. He took a step forward towering over me with his broad shoulders. He took his surprisingly clean hands and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
"Sianna, you can't keep running off like this." He began. "Your 15, you need to start taking responsibility. Now tell me, where are you going?"
I just stared. I couldn't lie to him. I just...couldn't. I took a deep breath.
"I'm meeting up with Ace and we're going to go to find the truth seekers." I explained with a bold confident voice but my stomach was going crazy with butterflies. What would he say? Would he tell the authorities? Would he forbid from going?
Natheniel said nothing, he shook his head and turned away. He sat back down on the log and carried on cooking. I pulled my satchel over my head and onto my left shoulder. I did it so often and yet it was hard to walk away from the house. The thing about living is you don't know when it ends. Every step I took was taking me toward the high looming fence that enclosed us into a perfect square of imperfections.
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Its kinda short but I'll try update regularly to make up with for the short pages. Comment any ideas and what you guys think. ❤❤
