The Immortal's Gamble

Chapter 2

1 Cup of mashed potatoes

2 Cups of pulled pork, marinated in barbeque sauce

A handful of dill, for garnish

6 Cherry tomatoes 

Ink bled onto the papers, forming words and stringing them together as sentences. Well, things certainly don't look as poetic as it sounds while I hastily wrote everything down. Taking a break from writing I looked up and watched the trees swaying in the wind, children laughing with glee while they chased each other with the horrifying fistful of mud and grass.

Things would have been normal, except for the numbers hovering above their tiny heads.

(70~80)

(80~90)

(20~30)  

My heart broke seeing the bracket getting smaller. They were all the same. Bold, black and bracketed. I always asked dad why they had numbers on their heads and he brushed it off, thinking it was a phase. But as I grew older, dad realised something was wrong and warned me to never speak about it to anyone except him. But when I let slip and asked mum about it after dad left us, she held it against me and screaming how I am a demon child, ruining her life. How I was the cause of my father's leaving. 

I shook my head, not wanting to let it become a distraction. The fresh air provided me with a sense of freedom from the four-walled prison I called home. The bruise near my ribs still ached with each breath I took though it's been almost a week since the incident. Dale had tried to peek into the toilet while I bathed and I threw a shampoo bottle at him on reflex, something I shouldn't have done. I may have managed to wear my clothes before he tried again, but I still ended up being his punching bag, just as he always said.

"So I guess living around here brings people closer huh?" A voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Grey eyes." I spoke aloud, not realising until I saw the amused smile on his face. Blushing I moved, allowing him to sit.

"Grey eyes huh? Maybe that will be our little secret. Don't you think so, little brown?" He teased, still blushing I looked everywhere but him, hoping to recall his name.

"Well, I hope I won't be repeating myself, but my name's Arden." He smiled, trying to break the ice again. "So what brings you out here? It's," he checked his watch, "Half past ten in the morning. And this park is what a twenty-minute walk from where we live." He asked.

"Well I rode my bike out here," gesturing to the bicycle, "and I have work later," I added. I did have work, just not this early. Maybe say, three hours' time.

He nodded in understanding while I packed. "Wait where are you going?"

"Gee I don't know, my workplace maybe?" He laughed, I was being too careless.

"Well, why don't I walk you to your workplace, Ms feisty? And maybe you can tell me more about this small town." He grinned and stood up, holding out a hand for me. Staring at his open palm, I contemplated about the last time I made friends and decided to take it. Not that I had many friends to begin with.

The gravel crunched under our feet as we walked to the town square. He helped push my bicycle while I explained about the small town of Davenport. The town square was an area with a grocery store where we usually get our basic necessities from, seeing how far the mall was from my house. Then there was Level One that I worked at. Pies, pastries, main dishes, you name it we probably have it. There was a florist, although I don't know who actually buys flowers from the shop. And lastly, a rather large gift shop that sells all sorts of trinkets and toys.