The Eighth Rider

Chapter 2

The room erupted in noise as hundreds of young boys jumped out of their chairs and jostled their way into the line. I caught the giveaway amber hair peeking out over the other brown shades of hair. I let out a breath of relief, but then immediately caught it. Why was I relieved that he was okay?

As I slunk out of my own seat and weaseled my way into the line, old, repressed memories snaked around in my head.

I was playing hide and seek with Dad. Dark, blue-tinged clouds had been sprinting across the sky, desperate to hide the sun and keep it to themselves. After stealing it, they became angry there wasn't another. They snarled their rage and let out torrential rains. The thin pine trees was the only cover I had. The sparse grass became swamped with mud, and so did my feet. As the thunder roared and lighting flashed across the sky, tears spilled from my eyes. Dad wasn't going to be able to find me in this weather. But, as a bolt of lighting rushed to the earth, a plume of gray smoke was illuminated. A house! Through the heavy rains and groaning trunks, I trekked to where the smoke was coming from. Finally, the trees became sparse and a quaint wooden cottage greeted my eyes. I felt like I could cry out of relief, but I was already crying. I ran up to the house, where I desperately knocked on the door. The door opened as quick as the lighting bolts fell to the ground, and a sweet, round face welcomed mine. He looked really nice, and I immediately felt self-conscious for being caked in mud and soaking wet. Sympathy stirred in the boy's beautiful brown eyes, red glistening in them.
"Mom!" He called, reaching out for my hand. He pulled me into his house and sat me by the fireplace and put a quilt on me. My eyelids began to gain weight and became harder and harder to keep open. Suddenly, I felt a warm, gentle hand on my shoulder. I looked up, expecting to see the boy's beautiful mahogany eyes, but instead, I was slightly disappointed to see regular brown eyes instead. Soft golden curls fell down her face, looking as if the sun itself was her hair. Her eyebrows softened and an expression of pity and protectiveness rushed across her face.

"Aw, darling. Why were you out in the woods alone?" I froze for a few beats. I didn't want to incriminate Dad, so I just went for another answer.

"I got lost." I squeaked out in the most pathetic voice I could manage. I wanted these people to think I was weak and feeble, just so they wouldn't try to question me. The woman pursed her lips and studied me for a few more moments, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to raise in discomfort.

Finally, she stood up, making eye-contact with who I believed to be her son. Now that I look at them, it was quite obvious they were related. They shared the same jawline and high cheekbones. His hair was curly like hers too, and he had the same nose bridge. I guess his amber hair and freckles came from his dad. I wonder where that streak of red came from..

My train of thought was wrecked as the boy's voice floated to my ears. I blinked rapidly and focused on his face. "Hi! My name is Lawerence! What's your name?"

Lawrence was crouched, with his hands on his knees. I noticed he had long fingers, but strong looking hands. My eyes rolled up to meet his. Red and green clashed, burning into each other. I couldn't move my gaze; I was transfixed. My swampy eyes stayed on his mahogany ones until the long pause became louder and louder.

I snapped out of my daze, a slight blush dusting my face. "I'm Zarlonay," I said, rubbing the back of my neck in embarrassment. "You can call me Nay, though." Lawerence nodded quickly and stood back up to his full height. Is it just me or did he look a little shaky? The thought was vaporized from my head however as the door slammed open. The candles on the table shook, causing the fire light to tremble. A rugged face was illuminated by the orange light.

Its expression was one of distaste, disappointment. I instinctively ducked my shoulders, trying to make myself seem smaller. The mere presence of the face shook me to my core. Suddenly, the face full of disdain turned to me. He had severe but powerful looking features, with a wide jawline. Stubbly amber hair jutted from said jawline. But, his scariest feature, the one that put my heart in a cage but at the same time tried to drown it in my stomach, were his eyes. They were a perfect replica of Lawerence's. Brown, all of the shades of brown on earth, but with a streak of red the color of blood in the bottom of his irises.