The Weight of a Name
Chapter 2
Amynta wakes up the morning of her birthday with a gasp, sweat soaking through her blankets and plastering her black bangs to her face. She shakily wipes at the drool pooled on her cheek, glad that that particular dream seems to allude her memory.
While she had always had nightmares, these strangely realistic ones seem to be coming more frequently than before.
Her hand falls from her head, lying haplessly in her lap. It's then that she notices the package at her feet. Not too big and wrapped in a very pretty sea green that matches the color of her eyes perfectly- she stares at it stunned.
She got a gift?
Minta carefully pulls the paper off the box with trembling fingers, looking into it.
A single pinkish pearl attacked to a leather cord and a bronze colored knife with a blade as big as her forearm.
What a pretty blade! None of her guardians have ever allowed her to touch a knife, let alone have one. But who else could have left this at the end of her bed?
She looks around her provided room, bare of any personal possessions. She doesn't have many things that are truly her's except for a few clothes that can fit in a backpack, and a stuffed dolphin that she had stolen in her time on the street. The creature fascinated her and it was like she just had to have it, so she took it. She deserved something, didn't she, to call her own? And who was there to tell her no, that she couldn't have it, didn't deserve it?
But that is all of her belongings. She can't have many things with how often she moves from one foster home to another.
But these people gave her a gift. Maybe she had it wrong; maybe this home is different. Maybe they want her. They have been very kind since her arrival, and it's been a few months.
With this new hope stirring in her chest, she launches off the bed, tying the pearl around her neck in the single mirror in the room, and clutching her dagger close.
She exits her room at a quick pace on light feet in search of one of her guardians, Mrs. Ramon, to thank for her gifts.
She finds her around the corner, on a phone in the kitchen, and a foreign feeling twists her lips up in rare happiness.
"No, I can't do it anymore, the child is a menace!" She hisses.
She stumbles to a stop, twisting on the ball of her foot to hide behind the corner to eavesdrop.
The strange expression that had formed on her face had already dropped off to a forgotten memory.
"Strange things happen around the girl, and I just can't put up with it. I should have listened to the others...birthday?... Fine, pick her up tomorrow... I know and I do feel bad for her but-"
Amynta draws away from the wall with an angry glare towards the kitchen. She wipes furiously at the hot tears that refused to go away as she tiptoes back up the stairs to her beaten room.
She should have known that it wasn't true, that it wouldn't last, but she had fooled herself for a few stupid minutes. It won't happen again though, because she is a smart child, no matter what her peers say, and she learns from her mistakes.
She rips open the one drawer that hold all her things and shoves them deep into her book bag after emptying the contents onto the floor. Then she pulls her dolphin, which she named Trómos, from the bed and angrily stuffs him in as well. It's with finality that she zips it, throws the bag over her shoulder, and takes up her new knife. She flings the window open and fearlessly drops into the shrubs one story down.
There is a permanent indent from all the times that she had done this, but this would be the last.
Like the two times before, she runs away. Only this time, she swears that she won't ever go back. She has learned enough for this.
Avoid adults; don't let the police catch her; stay alive.
And it is easy enough. She's gotten a lot better at stealing and pick pocketing. If she walks closely to a family or not act like anything is wrong, no one even notices her.
She sets out along the little suburban streets at a quick pace, intent on never looking back. She will have her freedom back, and keep it.
...
She doesn't know where she is, she never does, but she has been walking for days.
The sun has risen, and fallen, and then risen again. Her shoulders sag tiredly under the light weight of her backpack, and her shoes make drag lines in the dirt.
Her stomach snarls for the hundredth time that hour, but she ate her last granola bar that morning and she's almost out of water.
The dirt road seems to go on forever, and she's only had to hide from a passing vehicle once since she's been on it. The sun is already casting it's last fading light over the rolling hills.
Minta's heart beats faster as she spots a small building off in the distance, and ducks under the barbed wire on the side of the road to go to it. Her eyes droop in tiredness and her muscles are sore and sticky with sweat. She just wants to rest, and then steel some food in the morning before continuing on.
The building she had first spotted is a barn. The house is several yards away with lights flicking off as she watches.
She ducks into the wooden building, glad for the shelter against the wind. Minta had found that it gets much colder out here at night, than it did in the city.
The sound of shuffling weight and deep breathing makes her pause, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darker light. Three massive animals blink at her from the stalls, and her mouth opens in awe.
"Oh," she breathes, and tiptoes closer to the beautiful creatures. "I've never seen horses in real life before."
A large head swings over the stall door, bumping the child hard enough to make her stumble.
She giggles, grabbing hold of the head to keep her from falling.
"You're so pretty," she tells the grey speckled one she pets, looking into the mare's large brown eyes.
Thank you, Princess! The mare startles her, making her mouth open in awe.
No fair, I'm pretty too! Princess, look at me, I'm pretty too! The brown male two down says, whinnying in complaint.
"But you are," Amynta says. "You all are beautiful."
Damn right I am, he snorts, pawing the ground.
The reddish mare next to him rear up and kick the wall separating them.
Briar, language! She's just a child!
The spotted grey one nudges Amynta again, drawing her sluggish attention.
Princes, why are you here? You are a far way from home.
"I don't have a home," she tells the kind horse. "I ran away."
Your poor thing, the red one murmurs. You look so tired.
Come, Princes, into the stall to rest. It is going to be cold tonight.
"Thank you Miss..." She trails off.
Sugar. My name is Sugar, child.
"Thank you Sugar," she says, opening the stall door and slipping into the warm box.
The mare bends at her knees and lies down as the young girl settles into the pile of hay on the ground. The added heat of the large body is comfortable and easily lulls the girl, who had been so lonely on her travels, to sleep.
...
When she wakes up, she feels that something is off.
Amynta remembers the talking horses and falling asleep in the hay, and she is still very comfortable, but her hair is standing on end as she opens her eyes.
Soft whispers make it to her ears.
"-it's so strange. Sugar is normally skittish near strangers, but look at her."
"Where do you think she came from, Tom? You don't think she's hurt, do you?"
"I don't thinks so, she doesn't look it."
"Oh, you old man, put that gun away; you'll scare her if she sees it."
And that's when she opens her eyes.
A/N: Alright, so here it is. Please let me know what you think; if it's good or bad, or even if you want to guess what happens. I bet most of you already know her godly parent. I mean... come on... horses...
~Silver