Translated from Chinese to English. It was originally from Lofter. LofterID: rohypnol-kkal.

How come there's no name tag for Hawthorne and Mitchell?!

Enjoy!

The girl was running in the forest without looking back.

She did look back at first. She looked back every few steps as if there was a demon chasing at her heels. That was a carriage, with its front wheels sank in the mud and stuck in the rocks. It stood out in the fading twilight and indeed it looked like a demon.

Clank. The girl looked down. The second wheel broke too. The road was too slushy. It had just rained and the country road revealed its hideous fangs under the mud. A wheel had already fallen, now there was nothing left for her to drag with.

The girl looked around. It was getting darker and windy. The forest was going to be dangerous hunting grounds of ferocious beasts. She was not afraid though. She knew what she should do.

If you are not dead, walk. Keep walking fearlessly and expect the next dawn. The woman- the girl's mother once told her, but she was now laying in the cremator. The girl guessed, maybe she was already ashes now. And compare to that, a declining family seemed much less terrible. She only blamed herself for sending away the last maid when the carriage crashed.

"No, I don't want to leave, Miss Margaret. I can't leave you all by yourself." The maid twisted her fingers around her apron, looked like she was going to cry out any second. The girl found a little suitcase among the luggage scattered on the ground. She pushed the maid away, "Go, Maria. I'm not like my parents. It's nothing for a perfect lady like me."

She regretted her decision. She underestimated how hard to walk on a country trail. She lifted the case and took a few steps, then stopped and stared at the ground for a bit. She clenched her teeth and let go of the drawbar. The case fell to the ground. Muddy water splashed on her dress.

But she didn't care. She crouched down and pulled out a white parasol with lace. It was her favorite parasol. It might be useful, shelter her from rain or the sun. Or maybe it was useless, after all, it was just a delicate, fragile…

"Good afternoon madam."

A man's voice behind her gave her a start. A man in black stood on the side of the solitary track. If it wasn't the piercing wind, she would think she was already dead and met the reaper.

If she thought carefully, she might doubt the man, maybe she would run away, but now this damn weather froze her brain. She panted, probing the stranger.

"You are…?"

"I… I'm a pastor"

"Pastor?"

"Yes, from that church."

The man's eyes flashed behind the glasses. He pointed at the darkest of the forest. She couldn't see anything in the shadow.

"So, what is a pastor doing here?"

The man opened his mouth and was about to say something. He turned his face away and lowered his voice.

"I just passed by to see you caught into some trouble."

"I don't need your help. I'm fine."Somehow the girl was irritated. She was so down and the least thing she needed was letting anyone know about it.

The pastor in black nodded like he knew what she was going to say.

"I'm not expecting to help, but… if you're going west, the road is blocked. Do you want to stay at the church for a few days?"

The girl stared at the road heading west and looked back at the pastor, unconvinced by what he said. The road to west led to a larger city, where an organization was. If she gets in touch with this organization, she could survive on her own- at least give her parents an appropriate funeral.

"I don't trust you."

"Why would I lie to you?" The pastor smiled. It was not a mocking smile, it was kind of a soft, gentle smile that didn't fit his appearance. She felt a little bit more secure.

"Is there a fireplace to dry my clothes?"

"Yes. You can stay there for days, years if you want."

"Well then, it looks I don't have a choice." The girl blinked. "You can't lie to me, you're a pastor."

The pastor opened his mouth then stared at her in the eyes as if he was surprised. But just in seconds, he lowered his head and nodded, didn't say a word. He looked at her hand.

"Bring the parasol."

"Why? It's not raining and it's just a deadweight. Neither brings any good memory."

The girl's eyes dulled. The pastor didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. Her past or her future, he knew nothing about them. At this very moment, he must make the right choice. And her worries would be taken over by all kinds other people.

"Bring it with you. You like it, right? And just in case it rains."

The girl shrugged, persuaded by what he said. She picked up the parasol and went toward the opposite to her previous destination. She walked for a while and looked back.

"You aren't coming?"

"I got other stuff to do. You can go there by yourself."

"Yeah right… Well then see you later, Mr. Pastor."

"... Bye."

The girl walked further and further. The pastor stayed at his spot. He didn't go anywhere. He didn't move. He just gazed at the girl walking toward the opposite of her fate. She would never be her future self he knew, and she would never spend her entire life in sleep without waking up.

And she would never meet a pastor.