Dreamer

Drought

“Son of a…” I hissed as my toe hit another rock as if it had decided to jump into my path. The group had decided that James should be the one leading me-blindfolded, of course- to their little clubhouse or whatever it was, and he wasn’t exactly being careful. The sun had gone up in the horizon, and now it was burning a hole in the back of my head, much like the presence of his palms against my shoulder blades as he brutally yanked me this way and that. My mouth felt like it had been washed out with sand, and I had to admit I was beginning to stumble like an incoherent drunk. When I fell flat on my face and made no effort to get up, he continued to pull me from the back of my hoodie, nearly choking me. I made a weak sound of protest, and Jon- who I knew was in front of me by listening to the conversations that had flitted through the group as we walked for countless hours- stopped walking, the slightest noise of his feet crunching on the gravel coming to an abrupt halt.

“James, what are you doing?” He finally asked. His voice was clear, meaning he had turned around. I felt gentle, icy cold fingers helping me roll onto my back, and then untying the dirty cloth around my eyes. I didn’t even try opening them-my skin was so burnt around my cheeks that it hurt to blink. A cool liquid touched my parched lips and seeped through the cracks in them before I had time to open my mouth. Jon tilted my head up gently as I swallowed the water greedily, and then pulled it away. I tensed as his arm gently cradled my shoulder blades, while the other swept across the back of my knees. He picked me up effortlessly, and in my complete stupor, I just let my head fall against his chest. My ear ended up comfortably near where his heart would have been, and I felt the soothing murmur of his calming voice vibrate through me as he and James began to argue, but that faded away as I began to concentrate on the sound of his heart beating. Eventually, it began to drown everything else out, the odd, irregular thud making me frown. It wasn’t the steady beat I had expected: It was fragile, like a butterfly stuck in a net trying to get out. Sometimes it gave a little stutter that made me tense up; thinking he would seize up and die, but he kept walking. As James grew increasingly louder, I let myself drift back into their conversation.

“…And you seriously expected me to stay with you guys? After dad went into a coma? After mom became a blank-eyed statue? Of course I didn’t stay to take care of our siblings, you idiot- I never cared for them.”

Jon tensed, and I slowly opened my eyes. I looked up at his face to see that his jaw had tightened, and his lips had become a thin, firm line as he looked at what I supposed was his brother’s direction.

“Or maybe, James, you were a coward,” He replied quietly.

“Maybe, Jon, the only reason you decided to take care of them was because you wanted others to pity you. Maybe you don’t care what happens to mom, or dad, or even five-year-old Rose-

“I had to watch Rose get tortured to death!” Jon growled with sudden ferocity. James fell into a shocked silence, and I could imagine him blinking as rapidly as I was. To think that the boy who had just saved my life had been forced to see such a thing happen to his little sister… I thought back to my little sister, Angela, and how she had tried to pull away from mom as they left, and how I had been tied down to the table, unable to get up and follow- and how she had cried and whispered, “Mommy, please, we can’t leave Anna for the bad guys.” The bad guys. That had been the term I had used when I had tried to explain what was going on the one night she had come running to me in terror as the house next door was raided and the sound of one of her classmates screaming in pain had filled the air. Where was she now?

 I snapped back to reality as I realized we were now in some sort of room or house- it was hard to tell because of the sudden shade. A couple of creaking noises made me think the place was old- very old. Jon bent down and gently placed me on some sort of thick, comfortable mattress, clearly thinking I was asleep.

I opened my eyes and took in the room we were in: Old, Victorian-style wallpaper was on the walls, the bed that I was in had a flowery cover. The last rays of sunshine filtered through a window at the right side of the room, and I noticed Jon standing by it, staring outside. The light made his bones stand out against his skin while giving it a golden hue, showing how slender and pale he was. For the first time since I had seen him around seven hours ago, his face was full of raw emotion instead of his eyes, which were oddly blank. He drew in a shaky breath and gave his head a little shake before pulling shut the gauzy curtains that framed the window. He came over to me and I closed my eyes, feeling like a little girl again, as he gently pulled the covers towards my chin and left the room.

Surprisingly enough, it didn’t take me any more than two minutes to fall asleep.