wilderness | paul lahote

{08}

I was running in between the moss covered trees that towered above me. It was dark, only the moon lighting the way. I didn't know what I was running from or where I was going . A pair of glowing eyes flashed in the darkness straight ahead of me as I haltered to a stop. Panic ran through my body as I felt my wrist burning. And with that the darkness overtook.

I woke up covered in cold sweat. I had somehow managed to fall asleep on all my belongings, fully clothed in last nights outfit. I looked out of the window in front of me as I sat up. The weather was gloomy, yet soft rays of sun seemed to peek through the thick blanket of clouds.

Grabbing my clothes I headed to take a quick shower and get ready for the day. The cuts and bruises on my body stung under the water when it touched my skin. I took a look at my left side, the skin on my ribs - covered in blue and purple - was still sensitive to the touch, but I was ever so grateful it was only bruised and not broken.

After the hot shower, I got dressed and went back into the room. I left my long brown hair air dry, not bothered to do anything more to it.

I decided to fold and put away the clothes lying around, into the dark wooden dresser in front of the bed. Somehow, in the midst of me cleaning up my things, a picture had fallen on the floor - a picture of my parents, about 3 years prior to my fathers passing.

They looked happy. Smiling at each other, my dads arm lazily around my mothers shoulders. They both looked at each other as if they were the only people in the world. That had always been the case - as much as I'd remembered from my childhood, and from the pictures. I sighed as I placed the picture on the dresser.

I picked up my phone, that had been the last thing on my bed, and checked the time. But my eyes scanned the notifications before anything else, my first instinct was to sit down.

22 missed calls, 3 new messages.

They were all from one person.

Thomas.

1.16am Where are you, brat?

1.34am I swear if you don't bring your stupid ass back into my house, you and that boyfriend of yours will regret it.

3.15am I'm gonna find you.

The messages left me shaken, and even though everything in me wanted to answer - to tell him what a piece of scum on this God damned Earth he was - I didn't. I was finally free, I was finally safe.

I put my phone into the back pocket of my jeans, slipped on my shoes and went downstairs. It was silent. The emptiness and lack of people felt weird. There was an odd sense of loneliness that lingered.

I stepped into the kitchen and noticed a small piece of paper next to a plate of waffles. I took one, taking a bite out of it, as I picked up the note.

Dear Ariah,

I have gone to do some grocery shopping. Waffles on the counter are for you, berries are in the freezer. Fresh orange juice is in the fridge. Feel at home.

I'll be back soon,

Em.

I smiled and placed the note back down on the counter before proceeding with my morning activities.

As I washed the dishes after my breakfast, I heard laughing coming from outside and someone coming through the door. I had assumed it was Emily or Sam, although I had wondered why Emily had come home from shopping so quickly. Looking over my shoulder, my stomach tightened.

There, leaning his shoulder on the doorway, stood Paul. Wearing nothing but a pair of cut off shorts. I was fast to stop my eyes from roaming anywhere else than his face. He looked at me with a small smile, his eyes still wary.

I quickly looked away, the feeling I got whenever our eyes met still hadn't disappeared. If that, the feeling - the butterflies raging in my stomach - grew stronger each time. And I wasn't sure if I liked it. His mood seemed to swift from one extreme to another, different each day. It was as if he couldn't make up his own mind - did he hate me or not? The same old question planted in my mind once again. To be quite honest, his bipolar vibe was starting to annoy me.

I dried off the plate I had just washed and started to put it away into the cupboard above the sink, struggling. I was startled when something extremely warm touched my hand, the plate I held onto now flying on the tiled floor into millions of pieces. "Shit," I whispered, turning around to Paul standing close to me.

"Sorry," Paul said, as he took a step back. "I thought you needed some help there." He crouched and picked the biggest piece of what was left of the plate up and threw it into the trash can next to the counter.

I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat before speaking. "I'm capable of putting things away by myself, thanks." The sentence came out a little too harsh than I had expected. His brows furrowed and the small smile disappeared.

I turned my back to him, and swept up the pieces of china scattered around the kitchen floor with a broom that I had found in the utility closet. He stood back, watching my every move. Both of us silent. You could've cut the tension and awkwardness in the air with a knife.

When I was done I took a sip of the orange juice that was still left in my cup, resting my other hand on top of the counter. I made the mistake of looking at him again, his eyes already on mine. He was standing there, next to the table, with his back against the wall and his arms crossed on his chest. I hated to admit it, but he was handsome.

"I'm sorry," he said again. I was sure this boy loved making me confused by now.

"For what?" I tried my best to seem unbothered by him. It was mostly lying to myself, than to this strange boy standing before me.

He smirked, the smile again not quite reaching his dark eyes. He let his arms fall to his sides now, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

"For giving off a bad first impression, I guess." He shrugged.

I scoffed. "Well you're right about that." I muttered to myself as I looked at the now empty cup in front of me. He had somehow heard me say that.

"Look, I'm trying to be nice, okay?" He snapped. "I apologised. What more do you want?!"

I was taken aback from his sudden change in mood again. "I-I'm..." I stuttered. Before I could say anything else, he was on his feet, storming out the door.

"Argh," was all that came out my mouth. I turned and rinsed off my cup. Annoyed and angry once again.

"What did you do to Paul?" Jacob came in with Jared, both chuckling, yet confused.

"You were here the whole time?" I couldn't mask the annoyance in my tone.

Jared nodded. "We were nearby."

"Sam and Emily aren't home," My tone still shaky. "I'm going to my room." I said as I started walking towards the stairs.

"Hey, wait," Jacob called before I could disappear behind the corner. "There's a bonfire tomorrow night. You're invited too."

I didn't want to be disrespectful towards Jake and Jared. But I had been too heated about the situation that had just occured. I kept walking, only able to finally breathe when reaching the bedroom.