After a week of being in hiding, I couldn’t take it anymore.
We secluded ourselves to the most overgrown parts of Sherwood Forest, the cave the only other place we’d go. Every time I’d suggest going into town, William would protest, even if I promised to have my hood up. He’d shake his head and suggest we play Hunt in a different part of the forest, and because I couldn’t take the pleading look he’d give me, I’d cave and we’d sword fight and play Hunt until dusk.
But today, I just snapped.
“I’m going into town whether you like it or not,” I said. “I’ll wear my cloak, I’ll be careful, but there is no way I’m staying here or in the forest. I’m sick and tired of trees and bushes and these walls!”
He looked up at me from his spot on the bed, laying the book he was reading aside. “Okay.”
“And don’t think—” I paused. “Okay?”
He shrugged. “You’ve wanted to go all week; I knew I couldn’t keep you here forever.”
“Then why have you been guilt-tripping me?” I demanded.
He shrugged again. “We need all the practice we can get, eventually Hellbound will catch us and I want us to be ready.”
I have to admit, it does make sense.
“But you can go today,” he added. “I feel like reading and I can tell that you’re getting restless.”
I nodded as I grabbed my cloak and bag. “Yeah.”
“Bye,” he said as he picked up the book again, making me pause at the entrance.
“Bye.”
And I left.
I put the bag over my shoulder and tied my cloak around my neck, flipping the hood up when I could see buildings through the trees. When I got to the street where all the books were burned, though, I couldn’t help but stare at the exact spot where it happened, some of the ash still remaining. It lay black against the light brown dust, standing out like clouds in the sky.
I was back then, a week ago, when they were burning the precious books to a crisp all because the character has the same name as I do. I’m sure that every book—besides mine—was there, the pages going to oblivion because no one trusted me, my name. Through the smoke and flames I had been able to see Hellbound, holding a lit torch that obviously began the entire thing; he was the one who had the honor of obliterating something so innocent.
I wonder if William’s parents had been there, screaming and cheering as every last book was burned to a crisp. If they put all the pain they must feel into their cries, that by burning the books they felt closer to their supposedly dead son.
I had to turn away from the ashes in the road when a tear made its way down my face, my heart aching. It’s my fault they’re afraid, alone, thinking their son is dead. And how does his sister feel? Does she want to kill me as much as anyone else, be rid of me and everything I have ever done because they all think I killed two people, even if one of them is alive?
I’m being selfish, keeping everything I know to myself. Letting William’s family suffer while I live, knowing that everything is actually okay.
Everything except Nick.
That little voice in the back of my mind is what threw me over the edge, what made me turn down one of the alleyways so no one would see all the tears beginning to make their way down my face. It hurts me to feel so much hate directed towards me, to know how much pain I’m causing. My vision was blurred and my legs were shaky, all of me protesting every step I took. I finally collapsed in the alley, sobbing into my hands. Nobody was nearby, so there would be no one to notice my breakdown.
YOU ARE READING
For the Love of Robin Hood
Fantasy**Second book in the Robin Hood trilogy** Robin and William have spent the past couple weeks fooling around and playing games like Hunt, thinking the threat is gone completely. Little do they know that he is not dead, that he was granted more lives...
