The Lost and the Forgotten

Chapter Eight

In my mind, I become aware that I am awake. At the same moment, I feel the pang of my arms. I don't want to open my eyes. I feel like if I do, I'll find myself in my nutshell of a room. But my body feels... Warm. Not cold like it usually is.

My eyes flutter open and I take a deep breath. The air smells musty like an abandoned shed. The roof over my head is in fact wood. Where are we? I hope it's not anywhere near the city. I hope that when sit up and look around, my family will be surrounding me.

I hear someone's feet clank on the wooden floors with every step. My heart thumps in my chest. I looks over and see Logan standing in the doorway. He looks at the ground, then at me. He walks over and spits in the chair beside my bed. He puts his face into his hands, as his arms find his knees. When he pulls his hands away, I notice his tired eyes. I don't know him that well, but something inside of me feels bad for him.

"How are you feeling?" He asks. His voice sounds hoarse and scratchy, like sandpaper.

I want to tell him I feel fine, but it wouldn't be true. I feel horrible. My arms ache and my head throbs. I'm starving and in pain.

"Horrible." I confess with my cracked voice. He sighs. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Three days." He sits back in the chair, focusing on me.

"No.. No I couldn't have been!" I try to sit up, but my arms burn.

"You were unconscious, but breathing fine." He stands. "Are you hungry?"

"Starved." He smiles and takes the blankets off of me, throwing them on the chair. His hand slips under my back and slowly props me up. I move my legs over and hang them over the edge. He takes my hips into his hands and helps me stand up. My head feels light like a feather. I stumble forward a little, but Logan steadies me. I smile in appreciation.

We are hiding in an abandoned cabin on a creek, deep into the woods like before. The trees look bare with no leaves on them. The gray sky hangs around us, causing a dull feeling inside your soul. By the pond, Logan has a fire started, with meat skewed on sticks over it. He jogs ahead of me and unfolds a camping chair for me. He stands next to it, and as I approach he looks at my stomach. His eye crinkle at the edges.

"What?" My eyes widen and I stop in front of him.

"Your ribs are showing." He motions his hands towards my torso and I immediately look down, see my ribs. With every exhale, my skin relaxes, revealing deeply etched lines where my ribs stick out.

"The have been for a while, but not near this bad." I frown.

"How often did they feed you?"

"Every other day."

"How big were the portions?" He looks at be dumbly. I form a small circle with my hands, and he curses under his breath.

"What is-" he comes up and touches my ribs with his fingers. I feel my face flush dark red and my heartbeat race. "It?" I feel breathless. I haven't even known Logan that long but I feel like know him perfectly.

"Did the food taste funny?" He dodges my question. I think back to the mash potatoes and the strange green tint to it.

"Yea the potatoes. Why?"

"Oh God," he murmurs. He pulls his hands away, and I notice them tremble.

"What is it?" My voice raises. He turns away and sits in his seat, his head buried in his hands. He is quiet for a moment, leaving only the sound of the cold wind breezes through the branches of the naked trees.

"You're poisoned." His voice is so quiet I strain to hear him. "What?"

"You're poisoned," he looks up from his hands. "They've poisoned you through the food for weeks now."