clutter | rogers

THREE

Jem practically dragged her, as he had four legs to her two. Even with the pair's quick speed, the dark character was gaining. She could hear the man's feet smacking the sidewalk not five feet behind her.

Jem barked wildly at the wind in his face, trying very hard to take her away as fast as he could. He had to protect her, keep her safe.

He couldn't let anything happen to her, not after Aris.

They kept running, but the character snagged her by the arm. She tumbled backward onto the pavement at a strong velocity. Jem slowed to a jog and turned, realizing what had happened and turned on the man.

The character was taken aback by Jem's strength. The character had clearly underestimated Jem's drive. Jem had him on the ground and bleeding within seconds.

She stood and called him off. She dialed 911 out of impulse and gave the nearest intersection before running again. Jem followed close behind.

They made it to the hostile and she slammed the door behind her.

"You look like shit," Cookbook declared. Jem had ran up the stairs, seemingly toward the attic. She sat at the kitchen table.

"We were attacked," she said in complete shock. "Some guy attacked us from an alley, like he knew we were coming. If Jem weren't there..." She realized her arm had a slim cut.

It was then Jem appeared once more, sitting in front of her with a first aid kit she brought in from her car when they first moved in. She was amazed not only that he found it, but that he knew what it was.

She took it from him and began to bandage her arm.

"Good boy," Cookbook congratulated the dog. It was odd for Cookbook to even acknowledge Jem, but Cookbook set a bowl of cold water on the ground that Jem happily lapped.

"Smart dog," Cookbook stated and handed her a plate of watery eggs and bacon. She nodded in thanks.

"Incredibly smart."

She began to eat the terrible food, simply thankful for the fuel. "Hey, Cookbook, are we friends?"

He thought for a moment. She honestly didn't know much about him and he couldn't possibly have known more about her.

"Sure, why not?" He shrugged and got back to his frypan. She nodded to herself. She didn't have many friends, not back home (if Maine ever was home), and not now.

She stood and went to the attic. Jem stayed back, trying to steal food from Cookbook. She climbed up the familiar stairs and opened her door. Her brow furrowed.

The box labeled 'CAMERAS AND FILM', that she had looked at before, was laid on the floor, directly in front of the door.

She was sure she didn't leave it there, and Jem wasn't dumb enough to knock something on the ground. He wasn't talented enough to lay it straight either.

She squatted and opened it again. She looked at her cameras, all there. However, they had been dust covered before. She hadn't used them long before her arriving in New York. She couldn't remember a time, before this morning, that she touched any of them. Yet they were all clean and shining.