(Matilda's POV):
"Matilda, are you alright?" Charlie asks me as I push myself up.
I try to hide my face from them. Never cry at the gates; that's one of our rules. It's a sign of wavering away from Wonkarerhood.
Covering my face, I run from the gates as Charlie and James follow behind. When we're a safe distance away, I reveal the watery sins on my face.
"I'm still loyal to Wonkarerhood," I choke through tears.
My head is still spinning and I feel like I'm going to vomit. What I heard were no ordinary squirrels. They sounded too much like squirrels, yet their tones were that of what one would hear in a human experiencing fear and torture.
I can't hold it in much longer. Leaning against a wall, I bend into an empty metal can and spew my sick in there. After what seems like hours of vomiting, all I feel is dizziness and disgust. I can't believe what just happened. I've felt the dizziness, but never have I been physically ill after touching the bars. I turn back to Charlie and James.
"Matilda, what happened?" Charlie exclaims.
"Your face is covered in sick. Here."
He pulls out an old scarf; his only one.
"Use this to wipe your face."
"But that's your only scarf."
"I'll be fine. You, on the other hand, don't look fine."
"I don't want to waste your scarf," I tell him.
"Maybe we should find shelter. It's getting cold and my house isn't too far from here. We can make some hot cider."
"But my parents expect me to come straight home."
"We can just explain to them that you're going over to my house for a bit and you'll be back before six."
Charlie considers this for a moment.
"Well, alright then. I suppose they'll be fine with it."
After a quick stop at the Bucket home (shack would be a more proper word.), the three of us walk to my house.
"James, you get a pot and some water to boil," I explain as we head inside.
"Charlie, you get out the hot cider mix."
"Where are your parents?" Charlie asks.
"Dad's at work, I guess, and mom's probably out shopping again," I explain as I turn on the sink.
"How much water do I need to boil again?" James asks.
"A half cup of water for each of us."
I splash some cold water on my face and wipe off the sick. After rinsing out my mouth, I head back out into the kitchen where James is muddling with the heat knob on the stove.
"Turn it to medium-high," I tell him.
All of a sudden, I hear a loud squeak and I shriek. Charlie and James jump, causing James to spill the pot.
"What was that for?" James asks in anger.
A second squeak rings through the kitchen.
"Is this what you were screaming at, Matilda?" Charlie asks.
"A squirrel?"
I turn to find Charlie over by an open window. From the window, you can see an old oak tree. On a branch extending to the width of the window is a little brown squirrel with eyes that look like they were magnified by glasses. He looks very familiar to me. I can't pinpoint why, though. In his hands, he holds a fair-sized walnut.
"Why do you look so scared, Matilda?" Charlie asks.
I shake my head.
"No reason."
"But it doesn't-" James begins.
"Come on, you two!" I snap.
"Help me clean this puddle up."