The sweet, entrancing smell of vanilla made its way to me, strongest at a run-down shack. I haven't had vanilla for years, not since I came to Earth.
I used to love vanilla.
I made my way towards the shack. The wood was stained dark brown, and the boards were peeling away from the framing. We weren't allowed to use wood for anything, so this shack must've survived the Warming.
As I got closer, the smell got stronger and stronger. By the time I get to the door, I am tripping over my own feet. My hand reaches the handle, and I turn.
The door collapses, taking me with it. I fall hard onto my arm, but I don't feel a thing. Inside, there is a small wood table and an oven. An open door leads into a short hallway, almost my arms length, to a closed door. The walls are painted grey, while the floor is a bright yellow that did not go well with the ceiling which was an ugly orange-ish red. But I had no time to even cringe at the sight. Soon I was stumbling to the oven, trying to find the source of the heavenly scent. I open the oven door to find that is isn't an oven at all. It's just a cabinet decorated to look like an oven.
Inside is a coned shaped thing glowing a little at the top. I reach, grabbing it with my bare hand and walking out the door. Outside, Uriah is standing there, tapping his foot on the ground, arms crossed. "I'm sorry, I was--" I start to say, but he holds out his hand to stop me.
"I don't even want to know." He rolls his eyes. "What's in your hand?"
"Oh, it's this thing that smells like vanilla. I got it out of that shack." I hold out my hand to show him, just to see cream colored dust and burning red skin. "Oh," I mumble. I hadn't noticed it was hot.
He puts his hand on his forehead. "Will there ever be a day where you don't get injured?"
"Well if we were on Europa, you would be a pretty successful doctor because you're fixing me all the time." I shrug. "You're welcome."
He stands in silence for a little, and he stretches his back before turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction. When I don't follow, he turns his head and says, "Come on." I do as he says. As I'm walking away, soething hits me in the back.
"Ow."
He turns fully. "What is it?"
"Something hit me in the back," I reply.
"It's probably just a rock."
---
When we get back to our camp, inside a huge building with a wall ripped off, Uriah walks towards the stairs. "Wait here," he says. "I'm going to get Marc."
Marc and Rohene are two guys in their late twenties who were framed for murder. They found us when we were seven, when they first took us here, and they took us in. We've lived in this big house for ten years now. They say they're brothers, but personally I doubt it based on how different they look. Rohene has black hair, Marc has a striking white blonde. Rohene's skin is a light brown, while Marc's is so pale you can almost see his veins. Together they make an amusing pair, like night and day.
Uriah comes back with Marc at his heels, a foot shorter than him despite being eleven years older. His grey eyes meet mine and I shiver. He always struck me as someone with secrets, and I can always see it clearest in his eyes. They're cold, they're unnatural.
"My god," he says, looking at my palm. "My goodness, that's disgusting."
He reaches out to grab my arm but I flinch away. "Don't touch me." Uriah gives me a disappointed and tired look, but Marc just looks sad.
"How am I going to help you when I can't touch you?"
"I..." I don't want him to touch me. But his eyes soften, and for the first time they seem human. "Fine."
His had is warm, like Uriah's, but different. While Uriah's warmth is comforting, Marc's is menacing, as if I could melt if I was in contact with him for too long. He looks up at me. "This isn't too bad. If we bandage you up, you'll be fine. But you have to give it time to heal, okay?"
"Yeah. Okay."
I roll my eyes and he laughs, wrapping the bandage around my hand. "Now go." I jump up from the chair. "But be careful."
"Always," I shout, already in the hallway.
I slow down. My feet hit the ground softly, making a crunch in the cracking floor every step I take. Suddenly, everything goes dark, and the next time my foot falls, there is a tap sound that echoes all around me.
The next thing I know, I'm falling towards a pair of dress shoes and trousers.
~~~
WHOA! THIS IS GOING FAST!
So what did you think of Marc? Can we trust him? And we're going to meet Rohene later, so get ready. I have big things planned for those two ;)
So just to clear some things up, here are some pronunciations.
Sarai- sar-eye
Vancenq- vans-enk (damn Daniel)
Rohene- roh-heen
If you need anymore, just comment and I'll add them.
This chapter is dedicated to famouxx , who is not only an amazing author that gives us feels, but is a super nice commenter and amazing person. And you'll probably hear me say this a thousand times but if you haven't yet go read her book The Famoux and the sequel The Classix because those books give me life. AND I'VE PREORDERED THE IMAGINES BOOK AND I'M SO PUMPED FOR IT!!
Okay, I'm done.
As Lauren said last night that almost made me spit all over her, "The roof is not my son, but I will raise it."
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