A/04 - The Beginning

A/04 - Ten (10)

We walk for hours straight, it feels. The sun becomes like a dull torch against the trees. Night falls like ink pours on to paper – ever so slowly. What little we can all see is soon consumed by the darkness, reaching out like monsters hands in to the night. I wonder where we’re heading. With no refuge where do we hide if the asylums guards come hunting for us? I doubt my trust with Samarius and begin to worry about Caspar. My wound is sore as hell, and even though I think he may have done something with the scanner to make it worse, my suspicions tell me he was only trying to help. Still, I can never be certain.

We have no source of light, so we rely on the sun, which is quickly fading. We carry no backpacks, nor satchels filled with food or medical resources. I have a feeling that it’s all hidden somewhere in Caspar’s coat – his magic box filled with tricks. I wonder if we are close to our destination. Where will we stay? Will I become a nomad once more? My vaccines run low and the short boosts of information given to me by Samarius have stopped.

My thoughts drift back to last week when Samarius gave me the tablet. I unfortunately didn’t find any information on it, much to my dismay. If I’d had just had some more time to explore it, I’m sure I could’ve done something useful with it.

And then the boy … The poor boy who received a lobotomy at such a young age. Fifteen, barely. I never spoke to him but I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm. Another life ruined by promises never kept. Promises from the government that never seem to keep. I remember his bruised eyes looking at me with such intensity. They’re coming, he had said. It stabbed worry and concern in to my heart with the sharpest dagger. Them. Whoever they were, surely they couldn’t mean well?

 I feel a shiver run through my body and goose bumps settle on my skin, but not from the cold.

This body suit is keeping me nice and warm in the icy weather. The snow had been cleared from the section of forest I had been shot in, but here it sits like the thick fur of an animal, bumpy and unruly. Blocks of ice sit on small patches of rocks to the side of trees. Our footsteps create large deep holes in the white blanket, crunching down on the forest path. There is no path, really. Only the one we are creating which is hopefully not followed.

Caspar stops and reaches out towards the thin air, still hobbling beside me as I attempt to walk with this large burn/scratch on my calf. I raise my eyebrows, but he soon grasps something, locking his hands firmly around it and twists it, creating a small white flash. I blink a few times, and then look at where he twisted whatever it was. I see large planks of wood not less than two inches in front of my nose. My jaw slacks and my shoulders slump. Where did this come from? I spin around - a little too fast, though, causing me to gasp because of the sharp pain in my leg – and see Samarius walking up the front steps of a small wooden hut. He goes inside the house and doesn’t emerge. A few minutes pass and Caspar is already pushing me up the front steps towards the front door as a small light begins to emit from the houses front entrance.

“Wha …” I say, unable to finish my sentence. A large fire is lit and on the couch in front of it sits Samarius, taking off his suit jacket. His shoes are placed neatly next to the door. Caspar drops my arms and goes to take his large white coat off, hanging on a small stool next to the large hearty fire. I stumble towards the couch, longing to take off this darn suit and rest for once. Caspar helps me take off the large hiking boots that have moulded to my feet from the amount of walking we’ve done. He flings them across the other side of the room with his scrawny arms, struggling to get them off my tired feet. This makes me smile.

I stand up easily, finding it’s not as difficult to walk without the boots on. They were the things that were causing me pain, and I discover they were rubbing against my bandage. My shoulders slump in relief, but I don’t feel safe yet. I walk through the one room house to examine the measly kitchen, adorned with large pots and pans and a small metal sink with a tap. As usual.

The table isn’t special, carved out of a dark cedar with simple legs and arms. No fancy hand work, which is nice. I turn to look at the small bunks that sit to the left of the fire. The wall is split in to two, the above level lays one large bed, below two smaller beds. I obviously take the upper bunk, and this makes me feel good. It looks comfortable, and it’ll be nice not to sleep in that overly manufactured bed back in the asylum. I could feel steel bars riding beneath the mattress and I’d definitely lost sleep over it. This bed looks like my one back home, and I almost reach out to wrap myself in its warm covers.

I turn back to the kitchen after hearing the pots bang, and I see Samarius retrieving food out of the cupboard for dinner. His white shirt is already stained with tomato juice, and I begin to see his hard face loosen up. Perhaps he is not as cold and aloof as he appears. Perhaps he is just a man in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like me. I ponder on the thought before limping back to the couch where Caspar sits, absorbed in his tablet.

I sigh and lay down, closing my eyes. This place feels protected and for once in the past month I feel safe. The invisible force around this house that makes it invisible comforts me, knowing that I cannot be seen. That no one will find me like they did four weeks ago in the woods, just when I thought I was safe. Caspar and Samarius have more than once shown me their loyalty, and my instincts tell me that I am safe.

Ever since I came to the asylum I have been so serious, and tonight is finally a time where I can let loose. My old self was so casual and fun-loving, though quiet. I’m sick of having to force a poker face in to my features constantly. Tonight, I should relax. I have the right to, after a month full of bad pot-luck.

I ignore the time and fail to see how much of it has passed before I feel a body standing over me. It makes me uncomfortable and I immediately open my eyes, only to see Samarius hovering over my relaxed self. He looks confused and I joke about it, using my rules of relaxation and fun for the night.

“Bit creepy, don’t you think?” I mutter laughing slightly. His face turns to stone and he swiftly manoeuvres back to the robust looking dining table set for three. Not exactly set, though. More the utensils sitting in the middle of the table for the diners to grab at will. He sits down and pushes forward a plate of what looks like tomato slop. I nervously reach for my spoon, not anticipating trialling this meal that looks like vomit.

I pick up the spoon and hesitantly scoop up the food, or whatever it is, and quickly place it in my mouth. I peer nervously across the table and Caspar looks at me, then grimaces but swallows sure enough. I do the same, and end up spitting out my food. Samarius looks angry.

“What?” He growls. I gently place my spoon on to the table. It tasted like cardboard.

“Did your mother ever teach you how to cook?” I ask politely.

“No.” He grumbles, “But it can’t be that hard,” he finishes, taking another spoonful of his concoction. I patiently wait for him to spit it out, and when he doesn’t, I hit him hard with the truth. Enough of the quiet girl. I gain a confidence boost before adding;

“This tastes like shit.” Without a doubt in my mind. What can he do? He’s done so much to save me, so it would all be in vain if he hurts me now. He grunts and I grab his hand, leading him to the kitchen. The gesture is friendly but forceful. He kicks his chair back and follows me in to the kitchen. I drop his hand.

“Samarius I’m going to cook us something edible.” I say as I begin to rummage around the draws to find the utensils. Caspar gets up from the dining table to help, and I let him in to the kitchen.

“I know this isn’t going to be the shortest visit to this place, but if you’re going to live with me, you’re going to know how to prepare decent food. We can’t live off of that” I say as I gesture towards the slop filled bowls.

I’m finally free, and boy, have I been craving this control. I may have appeared serious but hell to that, here comes the girl who’s as feisty as her hair.