When I awoke for the second time, the sun was blazing down on me. I didn't even think about attempting to move, the pain from my previous attempt was still plaguing me and to be honest, I didn't feel like getting up or moving. I felt hollow and empty. I just wanted to die. "Look who's finally up," a man with ashy red hair suddenly popped into view above me.
He was looking down at me with concern, the long scar on his face wrinkled unpleasantly as his eyes bore into me. Although the strange man's eyes were filled with worry, it still made me cringe away, I wanted to shrink. Who the hell was this man? Where was the girl that I talked to last night?
My mind began racing, I couldn't think straight. I started shaking, trembling- I couldn't help it. "Leave him be Aaron. You're scaring him," a familiar voice cut through the fog of fear that had started to cloud my mind. "With a mug like that I'm surprised the kids still conscious." a low gruff voice cut in. The red-haired man, who must've been Aaron, withdrew from my line of sight and I heard a strange thumping sound, a peel of amused laughter followed.
Deciding to sit up, I braced myself for the pain and slowly-ever so slowly- drew myself up into a sitting position. "He can move, Hallelujah," said the gruff voice sarcastically. The man who spoke had mid-length snow white and familiar yet dangerous looking pinkish-red eyes. Those eyes were locked onto me as he sharpened a dagger, the dagger looked as familiar to me as his eyes. The man had a faint red mark in the shape of a fist on his jaw, its redness stood out against his pale skin.
"What are you looking at," he said, his face contorted into an almost playful snarl.
His head suddenly shot into the ground as a large fist slammed against it. "I apologise on his behalf young man," a kind looking bald man stood over the seemingly unconscious snowy haired man. The bald man towered over me yet the tremors I felt while looking at the snowy haired man all but disappeared. The bald man was easily eight feet maybe even nine, he had a large stocky frame giving him a boxlike, muscular physique that was not unlike the bears I had seen in the forest a few days ago. His thick, black beard twitched nervously as he smiled kindly at me.
But even his kind demeanour that had banished the tremors I had begun to feel moments ago, started to become overbearing. It made me feel small and pathetic. It made me begin to fear this man, or it should have made me feel fear. I think I'm scared, I know that my body wants to feel fear, but I couldn't muster that emotion looking at this man. Still, who was this kind to a stranger? Who had the body of a bear yet the heart of a puppy? No one. Unless... they wanted something.
Doubt began clouding my vision, tinging it purple and making me shake like a leaf. "Maybe we shoulda let Kyra be the first one he saw," a light-hearted and southern sounding voice slashed through my purple tinted vision. "Hmm. I think ya have a point Kylie," another southern sounding voice replied quickly. The two voices were strikingly similar, yet somehow completely different. The first voice was distinctly feminine with a soft melodical kind of tone. The other was just as soft but had a touch of sharpness to it at the same time. This voice was clearly male, and it lacked the melodic tone of the other voice yet still sounded strangely sing song-ish. I glanced to my left to see who had spoken.
A boy and girl sat close to each other; they were clearly related. They were basically the gender bent version of each other. The girl had long braided brown hair, the boy had short brown hair. They both had deep blue eyes and thin eyebrows. The boy had a long muscular frame while the girl was medium height well-endowed with a thin waist and pretty face.
I liked looking at her face. It was symmetrical and ruggedly beautiful; it had a certain farmlike quality that other girls had had in my village before...before. Oh god.
Images flooded my head each one bloodier than the last.
My village aflame. My father's bloodied and soulless eye sockets. The beheaded midwife. My poor sweet sister, covered in blood, her throat torn and shredded as if a dog had mauled it. Oh god, oh god, oh god.
My stomach churned and an unpleasant taste coated my tongue; saliva flooded my mouth. I leant over to my right and vomited. I retched, forcing bile from my stomach and ejecting it from my mouth. My throat burned and my eyes began watering. "Shit." the white-haired man said.
The pretty girl and the boy rushed over. I flinched away, the retching subsided, and my stomach settled. The pretty girl and the boy were close, too close. "ya finished there buddy, I know my sister is ugly, but ya don't need t' vomit at it," the boy joked, a nervous smile dancing across his lips. "Hey!" the pretty girl exclaimed, hitting the boy in the face playfully.
The two were doing their best to comfort me and all I was doing was cowering from them.
My body was instinctually flinching away from them. I felt empty inside; it was like a hunger. Only it hurt more than any hunger I knew. My mind craved emotion and my body reacted as if I had them but... but I didn't want them, and I couldn't feel them either. Yet I knew which emotion I should be feeling.
"Kylie, Kevin back away from him. He's scared and clearly, you're not helping," a new feminine voice cut through the air like a blade. The voice was harsh yet strangely compassionate, like a mother who was scolding her children. "Sorry," the pretty girl and the boy said awkwardly as they backed away slowly. They were treating me like a wounded animal.
I glanced over to the spot where the motherly voice came from. A girl sat on a rock examining arrow head, she was scrawny with short blonde hair. The girl had a young face, but it seemed aged with non-existent wrinkles. You could tell that she had a heavy burden.
I could tell she was a good person, an understanding person. She was purposefully making herself seem disinterested while maintaining a good distance from me; she was stealing small barely noticeable glances at me to make sure I was alright. This person made my body feel at ease, the instinctual want to flinch from people wasn't present when I looked at her. Almost like she was a sedative.
Next to this human sedative was the red-haired girl from last night. Her brilliant green eyes were openly staring at me; they were filled with worry. Her angelic tanned, bronze face was etched with concern.
Why did these people seem care about me more than I did?
All I felt was hollow, dead. I felt like a flame that lacked its warmth, its heat, its being. I felt lost and uncaring.