Crossed

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

I stayed with Rick for a few hours, just comforting him and letting him cry. It always shreds me when people cry, when anyone cries. I hate it to see them so sad. I'll never admit it, but that is what can bring out at least some sensitivity in me. But I suppose another part of me gets slightly frustrated, since crying makes them seem weaker than they really are.

He told me a little about Ashborough, not a lot though since I could tell it would be painful. Ashborough is divided into 3 classes; upper, middle and lower. There are around a thousand citizens in Ashborough, a lot compared to Dundale, and yet I would certainly not consider the lower and middle class citizens as citizens; they're more like prisoners. Treated worse than animals, treated like the barren ground, maybe even worse than that.

The upper class citizens share the land of Ashborough, there is about 20 masters and they all have family which make up the upper class citizens altogether. Middle and lower class people are slaves, but middle class slaves are treated better, they have a bit of freedom, they may even be paid a bit and they do the more decent jobs. Ashborough is much larger than Dundale, it is the second biggest village on our side of the wall, whereas Dundale is the fourth.

Rick, who is also known as Patrick, or s40brq, is a lower class citizen. He said the sort of jobs that he has to do are melting metal in the cold season and picking grasses in the summer. In the spring he'd do stupid jobs like clean up scrap and tidy his master's house, and in autumn all of the slaves would work in the orchards.

And the tiniest mistakes are rewarded by brutal and deadly punishments. I can't even imagine being a slave, or mistress, since if Dunadle was like that I'd be a mistress because of my father's position. I'm not surprised that Rick ran away, I'm really not.

"It's now getting dark," I say with a small sigh. "And I have to head home..." I was absolutely starving by now. I haven't eaten anything today and he has gobbled up all of my food that I packed.

He bites his lower lip a little and nods. "C-can you come and see me tomorrow?" He asks in a tiny voice. I will, of course, but I can't let him stay out here. There are some creatures which roam around between the wall and fence, just like that beast earlier.

I suck my bottom lip which is now bleeding from the cracks and I rub my head. "Right, I'm taking you into the village," I decide before I stand up onto my skinny legs. I smooth down my thin trousers before I glance at him. "I don't know how I'll get you through and keep you somewhere safe tonight but um, we'll find a way, I guess,"

He moves his head in a simple nod and looks up at me. "Who exactly are you again?" Damn, this kid has a bad memory.

"I'm Ren Wolfsbane, my dad is the mayor of Dundale, as I've already told you and I can't wait until he does, I hate the self-centred dick,"

I can see Rick looking slightly confused at this obviously new 'vocabulary' and I give him a look with says don't worry.

We walk back towards the fence and my thoughts fight for the main priority in my brain. How the hell am I supposed to sneak him into the village...? Then an idea hits me. "We need to go back," I suddenly say. "I have an idea," I scratch my chin. "I need to go quickly get someone first, don't worry, it's my mate, and you go back to where the beast is, yeah?"

He hobbles back towards the beast reluctantly and I can tell he's not fully convinced with my idea, even though he doesn't know what it is. Oh god, why am I even doing this idea...? Well I think it's a bit better than just walking into the village with a wounded complete stranger beside me. My dad would sentence to kill him, just like he did when I was 10.

It was a freezing cold morning in the village, snow had laid on the ground for nearly a whole season and it all looked very beautiful and mystical. Leafless bare trees coated in white, crisp icy ground, small flurries of snow every night and day. It all sounds nice, but it wasn't. About a dozen villagers died from severe flu that winter.

But anyway, I remember I was out on a walk with my mother, who I spent every other day with back then but I still slept in my father's manor at night. I was holding her worn, but not as aged hand. She was looking ahead and I was looking down at the grass as I walked. Honestly, I think I was trying to look for fairies, since that's how I spent my 'perfect childhood'.

But it did end all a little too soon. I was dragged into the black hole of life, forced to watch innocent people starve and struggle while I lived in luxury; and I couldn't take it. In fact, one night when I was 13, I really couldn't take it, maybe you know what I mean and maybe you don't.

Right, I'll get back to the point. I was walking with my mother and I heard her gasp, which made me look up. Laying on the ground, hardly moving, was a woman. A heavily pregnant woman - later she told us it was with twins. She had dark auburn hair and cuts on her ill face. Average height and ginormous stomach, it was obvious and evident that she was due in a matter of days.

Mother approached her first and told me to stay back, just in case. The woman shivers and stutters a few words which I don't hear. I didn't recognise her and back then, I had absolutely no idea where she could of been from, but now I know she must be from one of the other villages. But no matter how bad that village was, I bet she regretted leaving after what happened next to her and her unborn babies.

After a few minutes, my mother spoke directly to me. "Florence, can you help me with this lady?" I nod and skipped over there, my huge, thick fur coat brushing against my small knees. I helped her lift the woman up onto her feet and after some protesting, I gave the woman my coat. It wasn't hard to tell that what we were doing was wrong because of the way my mother was acting. Being only 10, I didn't understand and I was one of those children that couldn't keep their mouth shut.

So, when my mother took the woman back to my mother's hut, I went back to the manor. When my dad was saying goodnight to me and I was in bed, I said what happened a few hours earlier before I fell sound asleep.

The next day, I was woken up in a room crammed full with a rancid smell and faint screams coming from the central. I got out of bed, threw on a thick coat over my thin nightgown and I sprinted out the house, following the sounds and smells.

Out of all the senses, the sight had to be the worst. The smell came second and the sounds third and the other two senses really weren't relevant to this. But there was the woman; her clothes and hair had all burnt by now, but she was there. Screaming and crying, praying to be saved, wanting her babies safe, cursing everyone around us as her flesh burnt away.

I bent down, which ended in me slumping to my knees as I gag violently over the smell. My small dinner from last night came up in one large vomit and I hurled, the smell too overpowering. I covered my eyes quickly, the black smoke and the sight burning them. Tears wash away the sight, but nothing could stop the smell. My father dragged me away, scolding me for what I'd done. That night, he hit me for the first time.

My point is, I can't let that happen to Rick. I run fast through the village, ignoring all the looks that people give me. I see that he isn't at central, so I keep running towards his uncle's blacksmith hut. On the nice summer nights like tonight, Tiger is usually working. He says there's a mysterious feel to it that he likes, and I don't disagree with that.

Eventually, I come to his work place and there he is in a leather overall and some dark, plain trousers, dipping a red hot metal arrowhead into the ice water with large prongs.

"Tiger I could really use your help right now," I say in a rush.

He glances up at me, a layer of sweat on his face. "Ren, I'm on the job in the middle of something," He says and I can just sense how annoyed he is with me.

I swallow hard and say the words, but they come out in an almost whimper. "Tiger please I really need your help," I plea.

He picks up the now cold and wet arrowhead with his hands and sighs. "What is it then?"

I rub the back of my neck. "It's hard to explain, you need to see it, please just come,"

I know he's decided to help me by his deep groan, he always does that when he gives in to me. He pulls off his apron and I take off in a run, knowing what he'll always follow me.