My Sorcerer

Chatper 2

Soon, they were inside his home. He walked over to what appeared to be a medium-sized dark wood wardrobe. He opened it, pulled out a gray shirt, opened the dresser, and took brown pants. Then he strode over to her and shoved them into her hands.

“What should I do with these?” she asked, confused. She peered around the small home. It looked like there was a bedroom, but he had put his bedroom in what should have been the living room. There was a small kitchen with a door to a bathroom or closet off to the right. All the furniture was dark or light wood. It appeared that he lived alone.

“Get cleaned up.” He motioned to the door to the right of the kitchen.

Curious, she perked her ears. "Why would I do that? I don’t think I’ll be here long,” she said, trying to implore him to let her leave.

“Your smell will invade my house, and it will take a long time to be rid of it,” he responded flatly.

She huffed, knowing she didn’t have much choice; it was either the gun or a shower. She decided to take the lesser of two evils and shower in this strange man’s home. She moved into the bathroom and locked the door behind herself. She set the clothes down on an empty shelf next to the door and turned on the shower. She then really looked around the room, trying to find an escape. Unfortunately, the window in the bathroom was only large enough for her head and a shoulder to fit through. She walked over and tapped the wall gently; it seemed sturdy enough not to break with brute force. She sighed, realizing she really did need to take the shower and hoped not to get shot after or for this strange man not to come in while she was showering.

She lifted off her shirt and let it drop to the ground. She glanced in the mirror, seeing cuts, bruises and a few old scars. She looked like a mess, and she felt like it, too. She dropped her pants. Finally, she stepped into the shower and began to rinse off the manure from her skin and hair. When she saw far less brown pooling at her feet, she decided to borrow the body wash and the shampoo that were displayed on a small shelf under the shower head. She washed herself thoroughly before stepping out of the shower. She grabbed a towel and dried herself off, and then wrapped her hair in the same towel. She then quickly dressed into the clothes he had given her, finding boxers hidden between the shirt and pants. She smelled them before putting them on to make sure they were truly clean.

Before she left the bathroom, she pulled her hair out of the towel and twisted it up into a bun on top of her head. She then bunched up her clothes into a small pile on the floor. She went over to the door and slowly pulled it open. She peered out of the bathroom quickly, looking around the room and finding no sign of the strange man. She sighed and stepped out of the bathroom. She looked toward the entrance to the house and started to walk toward it, but before she was even halfway to the door, the possible storage room swung open, and the man came out, without his gun. She froze and waited to see what he was going to say and do.

“Where do you think you're going?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

She thought for a moment and then turned to smile at him. “I thought I could go gather some vegetables from the garden you have in your yard. Then make a nice healthy meal,” she said, sweetly.

“Very thoughtful, but I think not.” He laughed. “Take a seat.” He motioned to the couch.

She hesitated; he didn’t have a gun, and therefore, he didn’t pose much of a threat. “Well, I would prefer to take my leave. Thanks for the shower and clothes.” She stepped toward to door, but with the blink of an eye, she felt like something struck her and she stumbled over the back of the couch. She flopped down on the floor in front of the couch. She looked over at him, stunned.

“Where did you leave your clothes?” he questioned as though nothing had happened.

She caught her breath before speaking. “On the floor in the bathroom. I put it all into a small bundle on the floor,” she replied.

He looked at her first with shock, and then it was replaced with rage. “Are you dumb?! It will still stink up my home in there.” He stomped into the bathroom and came back out with her clothes in a bag and marched out of the house. She could hear him throw the bag into what she could only assume was a large bin. Then he came back in, slamming the door.

“Sit,” he commanded.

She quickly obliged and plopped down on the couch. She waited until he took a seat near her, in a comfortable chair. “Why are you running?” he asked pointedly.

She thought for a moment, trying to figure out what she should say. “Where should I start?” she pondered out loud.

“At the beginning,” he huffed.

“I was born into a small family. I have an older brother…” she began.

“The beginning of why you were being chased, not the beginning of your life,” he snapped.

She took a deep breath before beginning again. “It was about a month ago, I had just been kicked out and was walking the streets trying to come up with a plan. When suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me, and the clicking of a gun when it’s being unlocked. I didn’t really want to stick around to see who they were or what they intended to do. At first, I thought maybe they weren’t actually after me. You know, wrong place, wrong time kind of thought.” She paused for a moment, trapped in her memories, before she continued. “So, I quickly ducked into a nearby alley and scaled the ladder on the side of an old apartment complex. I got onto the roof, and when I looked down, I saw that they were scaling up behind me. That’s when I realized they were actually after me. I wasn’t being foolish or dramatic with the thought. So, I ran and I’ve been running since. Tonight was the first time they’ve gotten so close to catching me,” she finished.

“Okay, now explain why they are chasing you?” he prompted.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she said casually as though that were obvious.

He scrunched his eyebrows together in thought and confusion. “You mean to say that you’ve been running for more than a month and never thought to ask why?”

She laughed lightly. “Of course I’ve thought of it. Who wouldn’t! In the beginning, I tried to ask, but you quickly decide not to when the only words they will say are your location and point a gun at you. Not sure what I could have done to make someone basically put a hit on me.” She shrugged.

“You seem far too easygoing with all of this.”

“Didn’t have the easiest life, so no big deal,” she said, finally leaning back into the couch and making herself comfortable.

He raised an eyebrow, apparently not quite believing her reasoning. “Could you have accidentally heard or seen something you shouldn’t have?” he pushed further.

“Wow, what a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?” she responded sarcastically.

He let out a dissatisfied sigh. “You don’t need to be rude,” he grunted, a little irritated by her rudeness.

“I’m sorry, that was rude. I’m just frustrated, is all,” she confessed.

“Understandably so.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke up, “If that’s the only reason you’ve asked me to sit, I’d really like to get going. The longer I stay in one place, the easier it is for them to find me. And even though you kind of forced me here, I’d rather you not get caught in the crossfire,” she said as she stood.

She started toward the door. “Wait.” He sounded like it was a request and not a command, as he had done earlier. “You can stay and rest here. They won’t find you or me. I promise.”

She stood staring at the door. She had two options: one leave and start running immediately or stay and possibly be caught literally sleeping. She sighed. It was a very tempting offer, but he was making promises he could not keep. “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think you realize how dangerous they really are,” she said as she stepped forward, putting her hand on the doorknob. She wanted and needed to sleep, but not at the expense of someone else’s life.

Before she could turn the knob, she felt something on her shoulder pulling her back. “I’m not afraid,” he said. She looked over her shoulder, confused. He sounded so close, and yet he was still sitting on the chair near the couch. More confusion swept over her as his appearance and demeanour seemed to change ever so slightly in front of her.

She brushed the thoughts aside, thinking she was hallucinating due to lack of sleep. “I’m glad to know you aren’t afraid, and that is brave of you, but I still don’t want to put anyone in danger. No matter who they are, and if they pointed a gun at me to get me into their home or not.” She laughed lightly at the situation she had been in.

She watched as he stood and, in the blink of an eye, he was next to her, and the older, strange man who had forced her into the home at gunpoint was gone. Instead, a man, maybe eighteen or nineteen years old, stood next to her. She rubbed her eyes, trying to figure out if she was hallucinating because of exhaustion, dehydration and hunger, but she wasn’t sure this time. It was all too real. She started to twist the doorknob, feeling like she was going crazy and thinking that if she just left, she would somehow be more sane. As it twisted, the light started to fade, and then she was consumed in darkness.