Giver36

I watched the sunrise from where I sat, my belly empty, my eyes heavy and misery bearing down on me. My uncle made no attempt at conversation and neither did I, as I was too stubborn and filled with undue pride.

"Wait here," he instructed as he strolled up behind me.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, then down at the train station nestled on the north side of the town we had spent the night overlooking. Moon was off grazing and Girl had wandered off to chase rabbits, which left me completely alone.

"Why?" I asked.

Rage threatened, and as I searched his face for answers I knew what he would say: I was not fit for gentle company. Unless I was leashed or cages, I would not be allowed in society.

He came to me then, his eyes gentle and apologetic. He settled his heavy, gnarled hand on my shoulder and looked me in the face.

"Your thoughts are clear in your eyes," he said sadly.

But I didn't want his pity. I had tired of his condescending ways. I turned away from him and felt the familiar surge of childish emotion, one I could never extinguish.

"You know nothing of me." I spit out my words, though my voice trembled and I hated myself for showing such weakness.

He sighed, and although I wanted desperately to apologize, I wrenched my head to the side and refused to look at him.

"My son, I know enough of you," he said quietly. "Enough to know—"

His words were cut short by someone shouting. We both sprang to our feet and at last I looked to him for guidance. Foolishly I looked to him too late, and yet he never rejected me.

"Hide," he said. "Until I call for you upon my return." He stood to his full height and smiled. "Today we take the train."

I nodded and disappeared while he strolled away. When I looked back from my chosen hiding place, he was gone and I frowned, tears flooding my eyes. I sobbed quietly, face buried in my folded arms as I lay belly down in pine needles and dirt.

My fear of losing him overpowered me and I felt as though I were about to suffocate. The tightness in my throat brought about the onset of panic and I gasped for a breath. I wanted him to trust me, not discard me and head into town alone. I wanted him to have me at his side proudly, not hidden and waiting for his return. Most of all I wanted the strength to apologize to him for my ignorance and for my temper and to ask him to quell the anger I no longer wished to stoke.

My attention was drawn from my misery to the two men who slowly picked their way toward my hiding place. They weren't much older than me from what I could tell, both lean and tall.

"Well, I don't see a soul around," one man said to the other.

With a shrug, the second man planted his hands on his hips. "Look for a body," he suggested. "Perhaps sickness has claimed them."

"I haven't anything to burn the corpses," the first man said.

I swallowed hard but remained motionless, afraid the slightest move would draw their attention to me. Having been caught once by unfamiliar men, a swell of fear took over and I felt myself on the verge of losing consciousness.

"Look here," one of them said. "They did nothing to hide their tracks."

The followed my footprints, but after a few minutes seemed disinterested as I had done nothing but pace back and forth and double around.

The other man grunted. "Well, what do you expect from a sickly child and a dying man?"

I clenched my jaw and looked away, knowing there was nothing I could do, especially alone. As long as I remained quiet they could pass me unnoticed and then I would seek a higher vantage point and watch them, guard my temporary domain.

"Their gone," one man said with a hard exhale. "We should burn the ground less disease spreads."

The other one shook his head. "Are you mad? The wind is too strong; we'd burn the whole damned hill and then some." He lifted a bottle from his jacket and shook it. "But we could spent the better part of the morning looking for them," he said with a wink.

"Give it here," the other demanded. "We should look together."

They both laughed and I sunk lower, knowing it could very well be hours before they bothered to stumble back to wherever they had come from. I inhaled and swore I could smell their stench from where I crouched. With nothing else to do, I adjusted my position in the pine needles and dirt and prepared to wait it out. I was no stranger to long stretches of time spent in solitude and found little difference between waiting for my father to retrieve me and avoiding two brutal, drunken strangers searching for me.

Unlike my father, however, I had two strangers to contend with—or so I thought.

At first, I didn't realize what was happening until my body scraped across the ground. With my breath stolen from my lungs, I clawed at the dirt, but it didn't stop me from being dragged by my feet. Terror split through me and I yelped in surprise, which drew a laugh from my captor.

"Found him," the man said as he tossed me as though I were insignificant in size and my body rattled against a tree.

The two men who had sat to drink the morning away abruptly stood and stalked toward me. The look of surprise in their gazes slowly turned to satisfaction and they smiled at one another.

"What plagues you?" one of them asked.

I refused to answer, as my tongue had turned into a useless lump between my teeth.

They stared at me, but none dared to come closer. A glance over my shoulder showed the biggest of the three—the one who had pulled me out from hiding—wore leather gloves, which he stared at as though he expected to find disease seeping through the barrier and onto his hands.

I rolled onto my stomach and squirmed, pretending I had been punched in the gut. If I had taken nothing away from my father's cruelty, it was how to react to intense pain and I knew I could use it to my advantage. If I had no other means of escape, I hoped by faking illness, they would turn and flee, leaving me in hiding.

Consternation filled their gazes and I knew my plan could buy me precious time. I allowed my body to stretch out and I extended my bandaged hand, and the two men watching me stepped back, their mouths agape.

They look terrified and I relished in their fears as I inched closer.

"Help," I whispered, playing their fears for all it was worth.

They looked like frightened horses ready to bolt, so I continued my rouse until I heard the third man rustling behind me. From the corner of my eye I saw him bend and at once I knew my foolishness would come to a halt.

I never knew exactly what he hit me with, but judging by how my head throbbed and the split in my scalp, I suspected it was a tree branch and not a rock. The blow was enough to stun me like a cow lead to slaughter and I froze, struggling to keep my wits about me even though I knew damn well I was on the verge of blacking out. It was a familiar, almost welcome sensation that staunched the flow of pain radiating from my skull.

The man hit me again, this time in the middle of the back, and I bit so hard on my lower lip I tasted my own blood.

The world dimmed, their voices distant, and I remember as I faded into darkness thinking I had come to the end of my miserable existence and hoped God would be kinder to me in the next life.