Captive{ated}

Thirty-Two: Blindsided

I don't know if it was just me, but it felt as though the Village never truly recovered from the loss of Tabitha. It didn't help that the spring was very wet, making it difficult to plant crops. Whenever it'd be dry enough, another torrential downpour would sweep across the area, delaying planting further. It was as if a curse was placed on the Village. People whispered of the Gods being unhappy. Starting with the harsh and early winter, to Tabitha, and now the never-ending rainy season.

Everyone was on edge.

I, of course, knew that talk of this was ridiculous since this wasn't how the world worked, but that wasn't something I could openly talk about. I was under enough scrutiny already. Talking my mind would only thin the ice I constantly walked on.

Still, the new moon was particularly intense. People were afraid to move a muscle wrong or even blink, as if missing even a moment of the sacrifice displeased the Gods. It was unsettling to see everyone looking so robotic, and fearing being singled out, I feigned their passion the best I could. Though I didn't speak the words, I still moved my lips. Though I couldn't look at the person as they were tied to the tree, I still faced their direction with a stiff neck and clenched fists.

After all, the last thing I wanted was for this curse to somehow be pinned on me.

You noticed my growing concern over the weeks, but whenever you asked, I forced a smile and brushed off your worry. "I'm just thinking about the past," I lied.

The only reason I didn't tell you about my thoughts was because I didn't want to plant the seed of doubt of me in your mind, allowing it to flourish and flower if the bad luck continued.

At the same time, you had your own struggles, too. I was too narrow sighted on my own to see yours.

I guess that explains how I was so blindsided.

It was early summer, or maybe it was late spring? I couldn't tell. We ate dinner in silence. Unlike our normal comfortable silence, this one felt heavier, as if some unseen force was pushing down on us. Maybe it was all in my mind, but something felt off.

Maybe it was the way your eyes seemed so far away, the way you ate so slow. You were present in the room, but you weren't really there. Then again, I suppose I was the exact same.

The meal lasted unbelievably and dreadfully long. Eventually, we both sat before empty plates, but neither of us moved. I wondered if I should. When I finally had enough of it, I stood to clear our dishes, but your hand gripped my wrist, stopping me.

My breath caught in my throat, and when I looked at you, you were looking at me for the first time our entire meal. Your eyes glistened in a saturated sadness I related to all too well. Without needing to be asked, I sat and waited.

It was clear you were nervous when you weakly asked, "How was your day?"

I sighed, "That's not what you really want to talk about."

With a slight shake of your head, you confirmed, "No."

"What's on your mind, Caleb?" I coaxed.

You ran your hand through your already messy hair. Voice hoarse. "A lot, Evelyn. There's always so much."

"I understand that feeling," I said as I offered the only comfort I could. Your hand fell from mine, so I took it this time. "I understand it completely."

You propped your head up with your free hand, not able to look me in the eye. It was strange to see you like this. So troubled. Conflicted. I couldn't help but wonder what caused it, but I knew that interrogating you wasn't the answer. "You don't have to tell me anything, but you know, I'm here if you decide you want to."