A/N: I want to thank redwaves9 and trustingHim17 for reviewing! Thanks guys! Sorry it's been a while since I last updated!
Chapter 3:
A dull, throbbing ache in my leg woke me from my slumber. I cracked open my eyes, still puffy from last night's sobbing, and let the weak morning sunlight slant in. The air was fresh without the salty smell of blood that had hung thickly before. Birds were chirping merrily to each other. It seemed everything was okay.
But it wasn't. And it didn't matter if the world didn't know that, because I knew that. I started shaking again, panic threatening to overwhelm me. Monsters, monsters, monsters…
I shook my head. Enough. I was done wallowing in self-pity. I stood carefully, my bad leg shaking with the effort. Grabbing my few belongings, I set off towards the rising sun: east.
A few hours later I was sitting in a field, dehydrated, discouraged, too tired to go on until I'd had some water and rest. The sun blazed directly above me, burning its mark into the parched ground. Stalks of wheat bent over my head, their arched heads shielding me from the blazing sun above. My dry tongue licked my cracked lips hungrily, searching for drops of water that weren't there. I had drunk the rest of my water over the course of the day, but even still, I was weak. As I prepared to grit my teeth and move on, a shadow fell around me. Fear shooting through me, I scrambled to my feet only to see a boy, a few years older than myself, standing above me, hands on his hips. He had tousled brown hair and hazelnut eyes that glared down at me accusingly.
"This is privet property," he said pointedly. "You're not supposed to be here."
"I…" I struggled for words. "Uh… sorry, I guess. Um, I'll go. Right. Uh, bye." I swept up my backpack, intending to march off in a dignified manner, but was forced to limp. Every time my left let supported my weight, a small jolt of pain rushed through me, and I winced.
"Hey," the boy called after me, his voice taking a concerned tone. "Are you okay? You're limping pretty badly."
"I'm fine," I said through gritted teeth.
"No, you're not," the boy responded, jogging up to me. He reached his hand out, and I slapped it away.
"I don't need your help!" I spat, shaking with fatigue and pain.
He grabbed my wrist in a quick motion that left me unable to twist out of his grasp.
"I'm not going to let you go out alone like this," he said to me. "Come with me. My mom can help."
I bit back a cutting remark. I did need food and water. And here it was, being offered to me on a silver platter. I bit my lip, trying not to let the boys eyes boring into mine unnerve me.
"Fine," I sighed at last. "But I'm not staying long."
A few minutes later I was sitting in a small, messy kitchen, with towers made of dirty dishes piled up on the counters. A short, brown haired woman with a kind face was presenting me with plates of bread, cheese, apples, and other assorted foods. Although I resisted at first, my hunger had overtaken me, and so far I'd wolfed down three plates, as well as a full pitcher of water. I finally settled back, feeling slightly nauseous in a good, stuffed way.
"So," the boy's mother said, settling down in the chair next to her son. "Tell me about yourself."
I bit my lip, unsure of where to start. The brown haired boy gave me an encouraging smile, but his mother simply looked at me with a curious expression.
"Well," I began. "My name is Annabeth. I'm seven years old." I bit my lip anxiously as I waited for the reaction to my age. But all I received was a nod to continue.
I fiddled with my hair. I didn't want to lie to these kind people, but I had no choice. If they found out I'd run away, they would send me back to California, and I simply couldn't have that. So I took a deep breath, and began to talk.
"I was camping with my family, but I went off exploring and got lost. I couldn't find my way back all night, and I really hurt my leg on a rock. I wandered into your farm accidentally, and your son, uh…"
"Billy," the woman said.
"R-right," I stammered. "Billy found me and brought me here." I glanced at the woman's face, which was still the same expression. Taking a deep breath, I willed myself to look as meek as possible and whimpered, "I'm so scared! And my leg hurts really bad."
The woman's face softened instantly. "Now, now, Annabeth. It's alright. My name's Mae, and I'm going to help you."
I whimpered again, hoping she would continue to buy the act.
"Now, may I see your leg?" She continued.
I nodded, and rolled up my pants to show the gash. Billy gasped at the sight of the dried, crimson blood that caked my skin. Mae kept her face neutral, but her eyes portrayed some of her initial surprise.
"Quite a large rock, huh?" Mae joked, her smile strained.
"You have no idea," I muttered.
"We should take you to the hospital," Mae said, gathering her things. "You may need stitches."
"The hospital?" I exclaimed in horror. If I went to the hospital, I would be found out for sure!
"Um…" Mae said, puzzled. "Yes. Is that a problem?"
My mind raced for an answer. "Uh… well…" I stammered, as Billy and Mae scrutinized me closely. "Well… it's just that… I'm, uh, deathly afraid of hospitals," I said quickly.
"Oh, really," Mae said doubtingly.
"Yes! Truly! They terrify me! When I was young, my great-grandfather Bruce had a heart attack! In a hospital, I watched my great-grandfather Brain- I mean, Bruce- be unplugged and slowly fade from this world onto the next and leave me alone with a terrible fear of hospitals," I gushed, unable to close my mouth. "I can't even go near them anymore without feeling frantic waves of terror and-"
Mae held up a hand, stopping me mid-sentence. "I think I get the idea," she sighed. "Very well. I've done it to Billy once or twice before, so I think I could do it now. I'll sew your leg."
Hours later, I lay in bed in a white nightgown, my blonde hair still damp from my shower. My leg had been stitched, and I was to remove them in two weeks. A feeling of safety and security washed over me for the first time since I ran away. But I couldn't stay here. Tomorrow Mae was going to call my family and return my home. She had even given me a compass, so I would never get lost again. Her generosity was warming, and I hated to leave like this. But I had no choice. I silently swung out of bed, my bare feet making no noise as I walked across the room to the pile of fresh clothes Mae had given me for tomorrow. I changed silently, slipping my new compass into my pocket. I then crept into the kitchen, re-packed my bag, and slipped over to the screen door. My fingers flitted towards the handle, but I hesitated, and turned back. I found a piece of paper and a pen and scrawled a note.
Mae-
I cannot thank you enough for what you did: the food, the shelter, the stitches, and the compass. But I cannot stay here. I cannot go home. I home you understand that I will never forget you and Billy. Nothing I could ever do would express my gratitude enough.
Forgive me.
Annabeth
I carefully placed the note on the counter. I then opened the kitchen drawer, and slipped out a knife. It's blade caught the faint moonlight streaming through the window. I placed the knife in my backpack and opened the screen door, melting into the shadows that had gathered around the house.