Lost Amongst Many

Chapter 12

A few months after Mitch arrived, I fell ill. My stomach twisted, and my head ached. Mind you, I am rarely sick, so it is always bad when I am. A hurricane had raged up the coast a few miles away, so it was still pouring and the wind was awful.

Despite the storm, Mitch ran out with Jerome for dinner that night. Mitch had tucked me deep in the back of the den to keep the wind from making my illness any worse. They returned, thoroughly soaked and very tired from fighting their way through the winds. Even though he was exhausted, Mitch found the energy to sit me up, give me a once-over, and feed me because I refused to eat.

Jerome collapsed to the den floor, passing out quickly against the damp wood. Mitch had grown very resourceful while being here, and knew how to survive should he be left alone and get lost. He held me to him until I slowly drifted off to sleep, still sick.

Another few months, and Jerome started to slow down. His muzzle was getting whiter, and he just seemed more tired as time went on. His human 12th birthday rolled around, and he scoffed.

"I feel so old. 48- barely half the average age, and I feel old. This is not right."

"Sir, age takes its toll differently depending on how well you survive. If you are lazier, you have more problems, such as feeling old, pain, et cetera. If you are more active, you will have more energy, and can move more."

"Creeper. Are you calling me lazy?"

"Yes sir."

"Fine. I am lazy. But it is mainly because it has been so dreary out lately."

"You should take some walks with Mitch when he goes out."

"I think I will. When it is not raining, you will go with me."

"Yes sir. I did not expect to escape exersize."

Hurricane season passed after 5 Stage 3 hurricanes, and one Stage 5- the worst kind. Jerome had evacuated every bacca to higher ground for a few days to protect us from the worst one. It mostly rained and was windy. The sky was a constant shade of sickly green grey, and it was always flashing from lightning. Hurricane season was miserable.

Not thinking the one day, I puttered back home, to the meadow. The dead grass made me sad, because Mother normally kept the grass healthy. Rain does not get through the trees well, so she would always water the grass, but now that she was gone, no one watered the grass. It had withered and died, the meadow now a dull yellow instead of the vibrant green.

I pulled myself into the cove, regretting leaving Mother. A tear had formed in the corner of my eye, and when I blinked, it fell, splashing silently onto the floor. Mitch came into the meadow, and sat at the cove entrance while I looked around. It had changed so much, yet not at all.

I pulled a small box down from the shelf I could never reach- the box I was forbidden to touch until Mother died- and opened it, curious as to what she had hidden from me.

~~+~~+~~+~~+~~+~~
-A/N-
Who can guess what's in the box? Just so you know, it's a small box- barely the size of box of 10 colored pencils. Ya know- the crappy, thin, Crayola cardboard ones. It is important for the rest of the story, so you have to understand what's in that box or you could possibly get lost! Pay attention to the contents of that box. Anyway,
Love you guys!
                     ~Percabeth1Jackson