The Grieving

Chapter 3

"Come on Laura, you can do it. Papa's got you." He says as I struggle to my feet. My arms are out to help balance myself and I take my first step towards my father. The joy on his face is priceless. He is on his knees and his arms are out wide, ready to catch me of I fall. I giggle and take another wobbly step, and another until I'm safe in his arms. He gives ya a gentle squeeze then lifts me into the air making me giggle once more.

Another time, papa is playing stick people with me in the front yard. He had build a small hut out of twigs and little people with fabric scraps for clothes. We are laughing and making then do funny things. He puts the doll down and taps my nose. He then puts his thumb between his index finger and middle finger to make it look like he stole my nose. I giggle and demand that he give it back. He, of course, obliges. "You know," he says "In the old world, people used to do that trick to their children all the time." I continue playing with the dolls, because me being a child, I couldn't comprehend what he was saying. Nevertheless, he kept on. "Now it's just a forgotten thing. They say to not do old world things like that, but I miss them. I hope one day you'll find out the truth."

Yet another memory, I am cowering in my mother's arms with Peter in the coroner of the living room. Father is throwing and breaking glass. He's screaming uncontrollably. My tears are running down my face and into Peters head.

The dream fades and I opened my eyes hesitantly. I tried to swivel my head to the right but a sharp pain stopped me. I hissed in pain and tried to look around without moving my head. I expected to see the familiar smooth white ceiling and grey concrete walls, but all I saw was brown wood slabs for a ceiling and bamboo walls with reeds to make diamond patterns. The bed i was on wasnt the most comfortable. I heard a door slide open then closed.

Heavy footsteps grew louder and a trickle of sweat dripped down my forehead. Where am I and what's happening? Where's mama, father, Peter? The footsteps stopped and the figure leaned over me on the left. so that I could see him. He had black clothing on and bleach giggle resting on his forehead, but this time I could see his face. He had no emotions showing and all the memories of what had just happened came flooding back to me like a tidal wave. Mamas dead. Fathers passed out on the bed, probably dead. Peters alone in that tunnel, and possibly dead. This man killed my mama, and he's gonna pay for it. Even laying down I could tell he had a good 5 inches on me, but that didn't matter. I tucked my arms on my chest like a mummy and rolled to my right. Before I hit the ground, I pulled my legs out of the tangle of covers and planted them underneath me. Searing pain spread all over my body and my head spun. I thought I might throw up. I almost fell but caught myself on the bed post. I looked up and looked into his eyes. For the first time, I actually saw an emotion. Amusement. He thinks this is funny huh? I stubbed whenever I tried to take a step, but I just held onto the bed the whole time I made my way around the bed towards him. When I was finally within arms reach, I slapped him and his head never even moved. It probably was more of a tap, but I think I got my point across.

He just stood there for about 10 seconds then started laughing in my face. He laughed to hard his eyes tested up. I just gave him a glare but that seemed to make it worse. My arms started to feel like jelly and the room started to spin again. I stumbled but this time I couldn't catch myself. I fell straight on my bottom and he finally seemed realized I wasn't amused and offered me his hand. I refused to use his hand, and struggled to my feet by myself. My legs were shaking and I felt like crying from embarrassment. I kept the tears in as best as I could, and sat down on the edge of the bed. I looked up at him, waiting for him to say something but he didn't.
"What do you want?" I snarled
I could tell he wanted to laugh again, but turned it into a smile. He put his hands up in defense and said light heartedly "whoa there, relax I'm not trying to hurt you." He was really trying not to laugh now and it was embarrassing.

"What's so funny?" He didn't answer. Instead he cleared his throat and sat down on a stool I hadn't noticed until just now.
"Please, have a seat. I'm just going to ask you a few questions." He said gesturing to a spot on the bed.
I gave him a weary look, but did as he asked and scooted over so o was facing him. He waited till I was settled, then asked "what's your name?"
"Why do you need to know that?" I inquired.

"Gotta call you by something."

"Where's father? Where's my home?" I started to frantically ask. It had just started sinking in that I had no earthly idea where I was or what was happening.

"Just answer the question."

"No! I want answers! Where am I? What's happening? Who are you? Why did you kill mama? Where's my family?" The questions came pouring out and didn't stop until he help up his hand.
"You will get answers as soon as you answer all of my questions."

"Fine" I replied grudgingly.

"Thank you. What is your name?"

"Laura. Laura Madelyn quarter."

"Ah, an old fashioned name I see? Still have middle names, like in the old world."

"I guess so... can we just move on?"

"Sure. How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"What are the names of your family?"

"My fathers name is Rick Eric Quarter. Mamas name is Marie Ellie Quarter..." I almost told him about Peter, but I didn't. I wasn't sure what would happen if I did since he escaped through the tunnels.

"I that everyone?"

"Yes."