*Title In Construction/Progress*

Chapter 3--John--Surprise Visitor

I look down at the raggedy girl, her hair tangled in dirty knots. My heart is still thumping rapidly from the shock of seeing it was a girl, not an animal, and screaming for my dad not to shoot.

My dad carried her in and sat her on our only couch, in the living room.

The mysterious visitor was moaning but she quieted after I covered her with an old family quilt. She looks a year or two younger than me, about sixteen.

"What do you think is wrong with her?" I ask my dad.

He shrugs and scratches the back of his head, trying to fathom words.

"Try to wake her up," he suggests.

-How am I supposed to do this!?-I think.

"Lord, please help us to help her. Amen," I pray aloud this time.

I slowly place my hand on her shoulder and shake her lightly.

She groans loudly and tosses her head, before her closed eyes squeeze tighter in pain.

"Uh, hello? We kind of need you to, um, wake up," I stammer.

Her pale face stays expressionless.

"Should we call an ambulance?"

My dad ponders this.

"No."

"No?" I'm surprised.

"No," he repeats. "They'll think we did this to her."

"Not if we explain and tell the truth." I reason.

"Yes, because it's totally normal for injured girls to appear in cabins in the back woods with two men!" He snaps sarcastically.

I sigh and think for a minute before speaking again.

"Pa, I know this looks bad to someone who doesn't know what's going on, but this girl is obviously injured and senseless. She really needs help; help that we don't know how to give."

"No. It's not worth the risk," he decides. "I'll go get a first aid kit and some pills, you wake her up," he commands before lumbering off to the bathroom.

I plop down on the floor and rest my head in my hands.

"Lord, what am I supposed to do? I think calling an ambulance is the right thing to do, but my dad will flip out if I do. What should I do, Lord?" I pray.

I go against my conscience and just decide to try to wake her up, like my dad told me to.

"Hey, so, um, you need to wake up," I don't know how to go about this. No response from this mystery girl.

I can hear my dad rummaging around in the bathroom. He isn't going to be happy if she doesn't wake up; if she doesn't wake up, it'll only make our situation worse.

I hurry into the kitchen and grab a cold glass of water.

Standing over her, I pour some of the water onto her. The freezing water falls on her and runs down her face. Her eyes flinch and her lips part as she gives a little moan.

Her eyes open and sees what is going on for the first time.