Crayons

Chapter 23

My eyelids are heavy from not sleeping for the whole night and my head keeps falling downwards in an attempt to rest. After David left, I let my legs extend again to get as comfortable as possible. Half of my body is still slightly damp from the water bottle I spilled on the floor, causing me to shiver.

The light next to my feet has grown brighter again, telling me about the new day, another day of being gone from the outside world, another day of no school and no friends. My sleepiness clogs my eyes and ears, making my vision a blur and all sounds to be muffled. I barely notice when the stairs start creaking. I lift my head as much as I can, taking in David's appearance. He wears dirty jeans and a wrinkly sweatshirt, his hands stuffed in his pockets, a ball cap snugly placed on his head. His aura remains the same as yesterday.

As he approaches I pull my knees up near my chest. He stops in front of me, "Willow, I'm sorry for how I acted yesterday." I bite my lip at his words, "I want to offer you something." I raise a brow, waiting for him to continue. He slowly kneels down till our eyes are level, too close for my comfort, too close for his safety. His words come out slow, "I'll untie you and let you be more comfortable if you just answer some more questions for me."

"Can you do so without having to touch me?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

He nods, his eyes still slightly clouded with confusion, but he doesn't argue with me. I scoot forward, extending my arms behind my back. I wait while he takes a pocket knife from his jeans, kneeling behind me and cutting at the rope. My back arches when the knife slides against my hand, my heart beating a tiny bit faster than usual.

As if my heart has been beating normally since I got here.

"Has the rope been hurting you?" I shrug my shoulders lightly, waiting for him to finish, "I wanted this to be as civilized as possible, but things haven't really been going well, have they?" I shrug my shoulders again, feeling relieved when the rope finally splits, releasing my wrists. I wait a moment, for David to get back, before pulling my hands to myself, catering to them. My wrists are red and sore, in some places there is blood and bad rope burn. I wrap one hand around the other wrist, cradling it to my chest. He walks around, settling in his chair, "I want to trade my information for your information Willow, that's all. I don't want to hurt you, okay?" I nod my head slightly, keeping my eyes locked on his movements. "Don't you want to know who your parents are?"

I shrug my shoulders, at the same time I knead one of my thumbs into my wrist, forcing myself to let the pain wash into my body. "I just want to go home," I whisper.

He looks sympathetic for a moment before covering it with tight lips, "I can tell you more about the home you were born into if you just tell me what I need to know." He twirls the pocket knife in his hand slowly, his eyes slightly challenging, "Do you know where the Council is located?"

"Not in the sense I could take you there," I respond.

"Do you know what general area it is?"

"It's been a long time since I was told anything about the Council." This is the truth, it's been years since James was around to tell me about the Council and their ways and location.

"Think hard Willow, please." He takes a deep breath, "Maybe a little family history will begin to jog your memory." He's teasing me, I can feel it. He wants to coax the answers from my lips, he's so determined. "How old are you Willow?"

"Eighteen. Why?"

"Let me tell you a story about someone my wife once knew." I lean back against the wall, ears ready, "There was a woman once, a Crayon, who came to New York for something regarding her work a little over eighteen years ago, supposedly far from her home. While in New York this woman gave birth to a baby girl, but upon inspection of the newborn they found a birthmark. This birthmark was the color that they despised and the woman was afraid of being talked about with this child as hers. Can you guess what she did?"