A/N: Well sorry this took so long to update >, I've been trying for so long...but I've been very busy...like buried underneath homework. And it's short...heh ;;
I walked slowly forward, not quite sure where I was going but simply following the crowd to wherever they were going.
Chapter Six
I walked in silence along the fence that many followed too. Occasionally people would trail off, going in other directions seeming capricious. It was now very early in the morning, the sun peeking slowly over the horizon, the moon opposite of it. Coming along one area, I was surprised to hear a loud explosion and to see fire jumping up. It was far away, but I could already hear the noise of the "tripod" as one screamed. Some ran towards the fire, some ran away from it. Not wanting to go either way, I continued hurriedly down the fence I was following. The way I went was deserted, everybody had chosen the other direction.
What if you're wrong? What if this way leads nowhere?
"Then I'm dead," I said quietly, beginning to run along the fence. I realized with disdain that I was going back along the shore. "This is going nowhere," I sighed, but I refused to stop going.
The sun was now coming up slowly along the shore, dark purple reigning the sky. Casting a glance back, I saw that the fire was now a smoky black and the screams had ceased. I sighed with relief but still felt the same urgency to continue on, that I was not yet safe.
It was not until I found a small cottage that I had felt safe. The door was open, and it was dark inside the windows, it was empty, of Corse. It held a huge yard surrounding it, with dead animals strewn across it. I tried to ignore it and quickly walked into the cottage, it was dark and gloomy, but most importantly it felt safe. I had found a flashlight on the ground, as if it was forgotten in an quick escape of leaving. I flicked it on and looked into the cottage, it was small, but it had the feeling of safe. Something I yearned for, since I woke up. Once in the cottage I shut the door behind me and locked it, for whatever reason it added to my feel of protection.
I was in the middle of the living room, and saw that it was orderly, and all the chairs were upright, while in the kitchen, the small table was knocked over, the pantry was wide open and I could tell whoever lived here had quickly grabbed any edible, already cooked food. I coughed into my cupped hand, and suddenly felt the exhaustion my body had withstanded all day. I felt weak, like I could no longer move anywhere, dizzy, like the time Dad let me drink some wine, hazy like I would when jumping up at night.
I grabbed the counter and waiting for it to pass, for 20 long seconds I waited, and my head finally cleared. I could see straight, and I knew that I needed sleep, clothes, warmth, "Water," I said scratchily.
Cough drops
I, with the flashlight went to every room and saw that I was a cozy home. It had two bedrooms, one the owner's and the other a library. The owner's bedroom, held a huge bed, with some dressers and a trunk. I was relieved to see that the dresser held clothes in it. Shivering as I took off my now damp clothes, I pulled on someone's long-sleeved shirt. It reached down to below my knees and for some reason I found it funny. So funny that I could not contain it and I suppressed a giggle, finding it weirdly funny I kept giggling, until it was a full out laugh.
When it ceased to be funny any more, I sighed and pulled on flannel pajama bottoms I found. I yawned and fell softly back onto the bed and closed my eyes.
I squinted, the bright light burning my eyes in the darkness, "The bloody wankers," I hissed, not too loudly, remembering from past experiences that I got slapped by Mom for saying that. Then I remembered...she was dead, "Stupid, dumbass, bitchy, PMS bloodied wankers," I then said, feeling some satisfaction.
I opened my eyes though, and found that it was the sun that had chosen to burn my eyes. Figuring by the position that it was mid-afternoon I got up and yawned deeply. Stretching, I felt spots that were sore, my neck and joints.
"Ouch," I yawned. Hopefully this person has some Bengay.
For twenty years.
And Advil...something...this headache bites...I coughed loudly, and almost hackingly. Cough drops too.
Slowly I walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, it may have little food, but there had to be at least some. Glancing hopefully into the fridge, my nose wrinkled up and shut it quickly, smelling rotten milk. The cupboards held nothing but plates and cups; the pantry like I noticed yesterday was gone of all canned food and non perishable food. Walking slowly into it I could see a couple of boxes, probably old and forgotten.
One was a mix for pancakes, the others were mashed potatoes and other things I had never heard of before.
Well now that you've read...reveiw! Or thanks for reading at least.