I'm lost.
Words are scattered all over my thoughts.
Ideas are clumped together in a mess.
And everything seems like a fairytale. I'm all happy inside, it seems.
I'm not.
It seems I'm better off living fakely than living a horrible reality. Still, I can't do that. I have things to do. I just don't what to do. Yet.
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We still have to stay in that stupid motel. Yvonne didn't come back, and He ignored me completely. I'd rather be ignored, anyways. It's better than dealing with his crap.
After a week of school after the fire, I couldn't find the willpower to go back. There was no point anymore. The willpower to wake up came from Mrs. Cleary's "words of wisdom", or whatever. It was enough to get me through the day. The week. The weeks. I had nothing else to do but scuff around the dirty carpet or sleep. Sleeping all day isn't really my thing though.
It almost seemed like I had just dug that knife into Rolanda's chest. Watching helplessly at what I had done. I'm just glad I could get away with it. Getting caught is the last thing I want.
So when He placed the knife in my hands, my stomach churned. I felt light-headed. I didn't want to do what he wanted me to do.
Neither of us said a word. He just slipped the knife into a sack before placing it around my back.
We walked down a dusty side road and off into a small wooded area.
It was completely silent, other than a few crickets.
We stood in front of a fairly large cabin with smoke curling out of the chimney.
I looked up to the darkening sky and drew in a long breath. When He nudged me forward, pine needles crunched under my feet. Each step echoed in my ears and I could feel the sweat forming.
Then a crazy idea popped into my head.
I brushed it off because I couldn't imagine it.
I looked behind my shoulder briefly, but I couldn't see Him. He disappeared somewhere, then.
After what seemed like hours of walking, I reached the cabin's door. I raised my hand and felt the cold brass under my fingertips. But I couldn't bring myself to turn the handle. Then, it turned.
I found myself face-to-face with a calm-looking, blonde lady. The calm, innocent look in her bright blue eyes quickly turned to suspicion and fear.
I had taken the knife out of the bag.
Her eyes darted to the knife, then at me.
"Who are you?", she asked in a whisper.
I took a deep breath and looked up at her.
I couldn't take it.
The cabin rushed by me as I ran. My steps and heartbeat echoed in my head.
Who are you?
I panted and gasped as I sprinted off between the trees, but I didn't stop.
I threw the knife back into the bag, and kept running.
Running, running, running. Running forever.
After several minutes I tripped over a tree root or something and flung myself to the ground.
