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The ground burned

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The ground burned. A cold stinging pain that startled me awake enough to recognize that I was lost.

I delicately touched the side of my head sticky from the blood caking my hair to my scalp, prodding my fingers around until I felt the tender spot at the crown of my head. Head injuries were bad, weren't they?

The blood is probably mine considering the injury, but nothing else was certain. Not the necklace I wore, not the name fluttering around my head, none of it.

Amira.

The name sounded like me. It felt like me. I want to believe that it is me.

Amira, the patchwork person made up of unknown origins.

All I know is that I'm standing here lost and awake as sure as the sun rises and falls.

I peered forward through the leaves. Maybe I wasn't too lost.

Across the road sat a cheery little diner illuminated by a lone street light and a neon open sign. Through the glass windows, I could see peppy patrons, all of whom looked so certain about where they are and who they are.

I took a deep breath full of the sweet smell of pancakes and freshly made coffee, holding it in for as long as it takes for my lungs to begin to ache. In response, my stomach began to rumble and I dizzyingly shuffled forward, bracing myself on the trunk of a nearby tree.

I needed to go inside. There's this pull, an invisible string, knotted around my insides and tugging me forward.

Damp cement stung millions of shallow cuts on my feet and forced me along quicker towards the diner that seemed only to be half full.

All lively chatter ceased the moment that the little bells above the door jingled. There I stood, shivering in the doorway while eyes upon eyes upon curious eyes drunk in my presumedly frightening appearance.

Hot blood rushed to my cheeks as they stared, yet none of them stopped me as I sat at the only empty seat by the countertop.

Slowly, the chatter resumed and I peeked out of the corner of my eye at the person just to the right of me. He was already staring, no surprise there, but I couldn't look away the moment our eyes locked.

The string that pulled me into this place jerked harshly and I swallowed hard.

By the Gods is this man attractive.

His eyes slowly unlocked with mine and carefully tracked over my hunched-up figure. I became very, very aware then of just how hellish I looked. Compared to this beauty of a man... the situation was almost comical.

He raised his eyes back to mine. A cigarette was placed soundlessly between his lips and my tongue darted out to wet my cracked skin.

Everything felt warm with him staring at me. I didn't know why he was staring at me. I'm sure I could take a few guesses but I craved to hear him speak. Nearly every cell was longing for him to tell me what was on his mind, what he thought of me.

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