Deluded Soul

three - cyrus

chapter three | deluded soul

“And I don't know where I'm going, but I know it's gonna be a long time.”

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There was a time in my eighth year of life that it dawned on me I was unhappy at home, unhappy at school. Enrolled in a school intermixed with non-defected originates, it was clear as day that I didn’t fit in. The kids were cruel to me, so much so that I began to doubt any reasoning for my existence. Ryland tried to convince me otherwise, to no avail. Those kids were my first heartbreak, they’d broken my heart with their hateful words and pinning stares. The reason this memory sits so vividly at the front of my mind is because during this time, my father didn’t separate himself from me. I had him, both of my parents, on my side and they kept me grounded. Most of the time, anyway.

Eventually, my young and immature mind succumbed to the evil, twisted ways of my classmates and I decided I had no other choice but to run away. I packed a small bag containing only two items: a warm jacket and a picture of my parents. Heavy hearted, I waited until my parents were occupied with duties in the kitchen and I took off. In broad daylight, I raced down the street and didn’t stop until my lungs were close to bursting. One city over, I slipped past the Guards and the Center’s watchful eyes and into the thickly wooded forest. It was there that my father and Ryland found me, curled up under a massive tree. They crouched before the shadows of the tree’s shade, bracing their hands on their knees.

I watched them closely, knowing right away what they planned to do. They were going to take me back to that horrible place. I squirmed, pressing myself closer to the cool, damp tree trunk. Tears threatened to spill and Ryland noticed this, motioning to my father that he’d go in first. He scooted in next to me, bumping his knee against mine. A playful smile tugged at his lips; I couldn’t be bothered to smile back, no matter how tempting it was to match Ryland’s breezy smile with one of my own. He tossed his arm over my shoulders and pulled me against his side. He was safe. I relaxed a bit, letting my stiff muscles sag. My father sighed, looking down at the ground. I knew he’d been worried, gauging by the expression weathering away his face.

No longer hot with anger and unshed tears, I began to feel the effects of regret. I was just a kid; how did I expect to survive out here, me against the elements?

“Time to go, kid,” my father said and I didn’t protest.

Together, the most important men in my life led me out from under the tree and back into reality.

“Lira,” Noah hisses, his impatient tone rudely breaking into my rapidly vanishing thoughts. I can hardly believe I’m about to run away, willingly, again. This time for good. Shock rolls through me, setting my nerves on fire. Moving quickly, I grab a black duffel from my closet and start shoving things into it. Meanwhile, Noah shifts from foot to foot, standing guard in my doorway. His eyes flicker from me to the hallway, where my parents snooze just a few feet away, and back again. His nervousness is making me nervous.

Ignoring him, I focus on what I need to bring with me and what can stay back. Layer-worthy clothing is a definite must. I even throw in a thin blanket just for good measure. Next in is the old, wrinkled photo of my parents and me. Stomach hurting, I quickly push it to the bottom of the bag before I can think twice. Racking my brain, I grab a health pack from my desk and toss it in. I turn back to my desk and pause. Sitting there, collecting dust, is something that needs to come with. A necklace that Ryland gave me for my fifteenth birthday: a silver chain on which hands two birds, wings spread wide. Flying away, together, always. A knotted ball lodges itself in my throat and I swallow, grabbing the necklace. Instead of putting it in the bag with the rest of my things, I secure it around my neck. It sits against the hollow of my throat and I touch it briefly.