The Eyes of a Murderer (Watty Awards 2013)

Chapter 9: Cottages

  We arrived early in the morning around 4 A.M. Mystic woke up two hours after falling asleep and insisted she was rested enough to drive the next hour. I took my place in the passenger’s seat and dozed off in five minute intervals, briefly dreaming about Vulture and his men showing up and killing us. I had only been with her for a few hours and I already began experiencing odd nightmares. 

The car pulled over to the side of the street, I wondered if she had to use the bathroom again, since there was nothing in sight except a large forest and a small path, paved for cars. She looked at me momentarily and I turned to meet her eyes. "Is this it?" I asked confused. 

She gave a nod and opened the car door. "Stay." She commanded. 

I did as I was told and watched as she walked in to the few bushes there were before the forest began. She looked around observantly then returned to the car. I abandoned my instincts to ask her what she was doing. Given the fact that she stole a car and got it driving, I decided to trust her, at least for tonight. 

She took her place back in the driver’s seat and drove the car off the road and in to the ditch. I watched as the bushes and trees wiped against the window. She checked her mirrors, probably to make sure that the car was completely invisible to those passing us in traffic. 

"Ok." She said, pleased with her work. "Lets go. Help me with my bags."  

I took her bag from the back seat and had a hard time opening the door with all the trees pressing against it. She finally came around and helped me, then slammed it shut. The lights went off and we stood there in complete darkness. The glimmer from the moon worked with my peripheral vision to spot Mystic's every move and gesture, though her face had now become a blotch of black. 

With the heavy bag, hanging off my shoulder, I followed her footsteps in to the forest and tried not to turn back and run as far away from these massive trees as I could. Branches began to crunch under my feet and I felt dirty leaves, brushing against my clothes and face. The path where we were traveling began to feel somewhat like a mountain, since it become harder and harder to move up. 

Mystic didn't seem to mind. She didn't even seem tired. 

Of course not, I was the one holding her 1000 ton bag. What the hell do girls have in here? Clothes aren't this heavy.

Minutes began to pass and we were still walking through a densely packed forest. The place smelled like nothing but nature. Dirt, animals, and trees. I swiped at my face at the slightest tickle, causing Mystic to mutter feminine words in my direction. 

My droopy eyes along with my fatigued legs, urged me to ask if we could take a five minute break. "Are you still alive?" She said a few paces ahead of me. I made a sort of breathless grunt and heard a soft chuckle. It had been twenty minutes of walking. 

If she wasn't so confident and set on where she was going, I would think we were lost. 

Five more minutes passed and I opened my mouth to complain, but the trees began to subside, making the walk a little easier. In another two minutes, there were almost no trees at all, I saw the dark shape of a small house a couple yards up ahead.

"Up here." She said. She took my hand so I knew where she was walking. Though I attempted to ignore the minimal contact. My mind constantly yelled commands. Hold on tighter. Stroke her thumb. 

I ignored them successfully and let her lead me over the rocks and branches I could not see. Soon the entire forest was left behind us and wild, tall grass, tickled our legs as we approached the cottage.

"Stairs." She mumbled tired. I remembered how much I love her voice and trip up the stairs even after her warning.

I hear a small giggle.