Song: I'll Keep You Safe by Sleeping at Last
***
Figuring out how to survive almost entirely on my own was not something I ever thought I would have to do. And yet, here I am, lying awake in a car in the middle of the woods as the sun slowly begins to creep up over the trees.
Mitchell is still passed out in the driver's seat. He lays straight back in the chair, his mouth hanging open and his arms down at his sides. How he can sleep after a night like last night, I don't know. I pull my hoodie tighter around me and shiver, from a combination of the cold and the horror of pretty much everything.
Somehow, he manages to look peaceful and sweet sleeping like that.
My father used to tell my mother to keep me away from boys. She said that he claimed they were all dangerous monsters. And for so many years I believed that. I truly thought that all boys were out to get me.
But Mitchell just seems so different. He helped me when he didn't have to. He's kept me alive. He's been a friend to me. And to think my father would have told me that Mitchell is a hormone-raging monster.
But then again, my father was also a politician, and everybody knows how politicians can be sometimes. Personally, I think he was just looking out for me.
My father left when I was very young. My mother never told me why; one morning I just woke up and he was gone. He hadn't taken anything with him, he had just simply left. My mother never told me where he went or why, or if he was even still alive. But my father was - is - a good man, I know that much. So if he chose to leave, I know it was for a good reason.
I do intend to find him one day, or at least find out what happened to him. Perhaps that day may not be in the near future, but I will make sure that it happens. It has to, for my own curiosity's sake.
Mitchell stirs beside me, groaning as he squints his eyes open. Blinding sunlight streams in through the car's windshield, and I find myself pulling the visor down to block it out. Mitchell raises a hand, holding it out in front of him to block the light from hitting his eyes.
"What time is it?" he mumbles, his voice raspy from the offset of sleep.
"No idea," I say with a shrug. "Morning, obviously."
He snorts. "That's helpful," he scoffs.
"Well, we don't have a clock," I retort, folding my arms across my chest.
"Fair enough," he says. He opens his door and steps out of the car, letting in a rush of frigid morning air. I wrap my arms tighter around myself, engulfing myself in a hug.
Mitchell begins to walk away from the car. "Hey! Where do you think you're going?" I holler, horrified. Is he ditching me? I wonder, beginning to panic. I jump out of the car and break into a run, following him.
"I need to pee," he says over his shoulder, and I skid to stop. "Do you really want to follow me?" he asks.
I bite my lip. "You know," I stutter, shuffling bakwards slightly. "I'm just gonna go back to the car," I state, jabbing my thumb over my shoulder.
"Good idea," he says, continuing on his way. I scurry back to the car, shutting myself inside.
"Good lord, it's cold," I mutter, blowing into my hands.
