I still don't own the Thief Lord. Never claimed that I ever did.
It was cold. That was the first thing I noticed when I woke from my slumber. I drew the blanket I had brought with me up to my chin and exhaled. I could see my breath, like a white cloud of smoke. Shivering, I reached into my bag and pulled out the pouch. Inside was a small bit of bread, not enough to make a mouthful for me. I sighed and leaned back against the building behind me.
It had been two weeks since Scuro had thrown me out of the house, and I was still trying to get far enough away from him to ensure that he could never find me. I stayed away from most other people; I feared that I might be recognized if I strayed to far into a town.
I sighed impatiently and racked my brain to find a suitable location for me to run away to. My family lived in southern England for as long as I could remember, but I needed a place that was crowded enough to get lost, just in case Scuro did come look for me. I doubted that London was far enough away for it to be a good location, and I knew that Scuro had the best advantage in England, so I needed to find another country to run away to.
My father was English and my mother was Italian, so maybe Italy would be a good place for me to look. Mama had given me a few lessons in Italian, so I knew a few basic words and phrases that I might need. Yes! Italy would be my safety, and I would be as inconspicuous as I needed to be among the tourists that no doubt flocked there. Where had Mama said she was born? Venice, I remembered her saying that Venice was one of the few magical cities left in our world. It was crowded with tourists and citizens. The perfect location for a runaway, as I now was.
But how would I get there? I had no money, and miles and miles of land and water separated England and Italy. Maybe I could steal enough to ride a bus… I shut the thought down immediately. I was not a thief, nor would I ever become a thief. The darker side of my mind argued, But what if it was necessary? You know that you would do about anything to survive.
I stood, feeling my stiff knees clench, and began packing up the little I had in my bag. I decided that I would go and see how far I could go before I began worrying. Stretching and yawning, I set off towards the watery channel that separated me from continuing on my journey to freedom.
Three days later, I reached a small city on the coast of England. I immediately looked around and found an alley to rest in and curled up in it, my eyelids drooping. My exhaustion soon caught up with me, and I slept soundly.
The sky was the clearest I'd ever seen, cloudless and robin's-egg blue. The grass under my bare feet was cool and soft. A breeze wafted around me, smelling of home…
Home. My footsteps sped across the grass towards the familiar building that stood, welcoming, on the lawn. As I drew nearer to the house, I heard the door open and heard a familiar voice call, "Emelyn!"
"Mama?" I focused on the house, hoping for a glance of my mother.
"Emelyn!" this time the voice was my father's.
"Dada!" I ran to the door of the house and saw my parents standing in front of the door, smiling at me. My father's arm was around my mother, and her hands held his hands tightly.
"Emelyn, remember us," my father smiled, though his eyes were sad. "Don't let anything discourage you. You're strong, and we're proud of you. Don't ever forget that."
I nodded mutely, and then wanted to voice how much I missed them. "Mama, Dada… I-"
"We understand, Emelyn," Mama smiled. "We love you. Very much."
"I know, Mama," my eyes moistened.
And then I woke up; tears streamed freely down my dirty face. I knew that it had been a dream, but I didn't care—seeing my parents brought back memories so sharply that my breath was taken away. I sighed. How long until my past was far enough behind me that I could think about my parents without the danger of me crying? Never, part of me whispered gently. You know that you love them too much to forget them.
"Yes," I agreed out loud, softly. Then I rubbed my tired eyes and stood, deciding that I still could go further along before stopping today. Before I left the alley, I found a black rock and wrote the date on one of the buildings' walls, though I didn't know why. But, hey, who knew? Maybe I would come back here someday. And maybe I wouldn't survive to see tomorrow's sunrise.
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Note:
Another part! Short, though. Sorry.
Okay, so I know what I think about the story, but I have no idea what you think unless you tell me. So please review!
~Elissa~