Broken Spirit

Chapter Two:Dreams

I don't dream. I've never dreamed in my life. The only way I knew dreaming was something that existed was when me and my brother were little. He'd have dreams all the time, he'd try so hard to describe his dreams perfectly. But they always left me feeling different, knowing that everyone dreamed except me. When my brother found out how dreaming felt to me, he stopped talking about it. It's been that way since if he dreamed I wouldn't know about it. But Dylan would always ask if I dreamed, even if he knew the answer.

"Erin" I heard a whisper well being gently shaken awake. I groaned digging my head deeper into my winter jacket that I used as a pillow. 

  "Erin" I heard again before feeling a hand slap the back of my head. I groaned into my pillow lifting my head up off it slightly to see Dylan shoving some extra things into his back pack. 

"It's dawn, we need to get moving," Dylan said before offering his hand for me to get up. I took his hand standing up dusting off my pants. 

"Have you seen any Viles?" I asked grabbing my back pack and stuffing in my winter jacket. Dylan handed me a bag of acorns and small insects for the road. 

"I went out earlier, there are Vile trucks  5 miles past the river," he said exiting the hut once I took the small bag. I stuffed the bag into my jacket pocket, then leaving with Lilly on my trail. Lilly was the only thing we had left of our mother. She was a brown wolf, but her eyes were yellow looking like lilies. She was the runt of the litter when we found her the only one to survive the nukes, my mom took care of her and when she was fully back to health. Lilly was attached to our hip, anywhere we'd go, she'd go. 

I hurried and caught up to Dylan who had his bow slung across his back, well his back pack rested on top of it. Dylan's red hair was splashed on top of his head like paint, it untamed and curly. He had light freckles that were scattered across his nose and upper cheeks, his nose was pointed well his eyes were as sharp as claws, unlike my his eyes were blue. He wore an old flannel that was too small for him, and a dirty clawed up tan coat with a pair of old jeans with some tennis shoes. He was the definition of a floater. 

"So which way are we heading?" I asked slinging the back pack onto my shoulders. Beginning to play with the ends of my old maroon t shirt. 

"I thought we'd head West since the Viles is South of us," Dylan said kicking a rock into the small stream ahead of us. Me and Dylan crouched down by the gray stream before digging out our water bottles. I could see the black fungi clinging to the rocks as I gently pulled my sleeve down over my hand before dipping my hand and bottle into the river. We would boil once we made camp. 

I twisted the cap back on before rolling my sleeves back up, feeling the heat of the sun that was rarely ever there. I could feel my pale skin already start to burn from the light.  I could see Dylan looking up at the brown clouds that surrounded the sky, seeing the suns light barely from the clouds, but enough to see. 

"We need to go," I told Dylan starting to walk away from the small stream. Dylan stayed there a moment before standing up and walking back to my side. 

"Mom would have wanted us to keep moving," he said, mostly to himself but to me too. I only nodded already starting to forget our little hut and our mother.

About 5 miles into walking we approach a small hill, the dirt turning a darker mud like color, a single tree on top of the hill its stems bare, well it sat still as if waiting to die. 

We slowly walked up the hill Lilly growling lowly. Didn't think much of it, she growled at everything that moved. Once we made it on top of the hill, you could see everything. Witch was just garbage.