freedom taste like you

Chapter 7

“Why didn’t I think this through?” I muttered, kicking a stone down the dirt path. It clattered off somewhere into the trees. “I was so eager to leave that I didn’t even grab the things I’d need if I got stranded. No food, no water, no…nothing.”

I let out a groan and rubbed my face. “Ugh, I’m so stupid.”

The forest around me was quiet except for the sound of rushing water nearby. I followed the noise until I reached a small stream cutting through the trees. I sat down on a fallen log, my heart still pounding from all the running. The water shimmered under the sunlight, so calm and peaceful that for a moment I almost forgot why I was here.

Almost.

A sharp c***k echoed from somewhere behind me.

I froze.

I couldn’t tell what it was, a branch breaking? A footstep? My pulse spiked, and suddenly, I didn’t want to find out.

I shot up from the log and started running again, pushing through the thick brush, branches scratching at my arms. I didn’t look back. Whatever that sound was, I wasn’t going to stay and see it.

I ran until my lungs burned, until my legs begged me to stop. But fear was stronger than exhaustion. Just as I slowed down to catch my breath, my foot caught on something buried beneath the leaves.

“Ah!”

Before I knew it, I was tumbling down a slope, dirt flying into my face, rocks scraping against my arms and legs. My body hit the ground, then rolled, and rolled again.

“Ah..ouch! Ow! Damn it!”

Finally, I came to a stop, sprawled on the rough ground, groaning in pain. Every inch of my body throbbed. I sat up slowly, wincing as I brushed dirt off my skin and saw the fresh bruises blooming across my arms.

But when I looked up, all that pain disappeared for a moment.

There, just a few feet away, was a road.

A real, paved road.

My breath caught in my throat. Cars. Buses. Signs. Civilization. I couldn’t believe it.

I stumbled to my feet, my heart racing. I wanted to scream, to laugh, to cry, anything. I was here. I’d actually made it somewhere.

Just then, something wet splattered on my head.

I blinked, confused, and reached up to touch it. The second I felt the slimy texture between my fingers, I gagged.

“Ugh, gross!” I wiped it off on my dress, grimacing at the awful smell. “Perfect. Freedom smells like bird poop. Great start, Amber.”

But even that couldn’t ruin the moment. Because right then, a car whizzed past.

My breath hitched. I ran to the edge of the road, waving my arms. “Hey! Hey, wait!” The car didn’t stop, but I didn’t lose hope. I could wait for another. Someone had to stop eventually. Someone had to help me.

Minutes later, another car appeared in the distance. I stepped closer to the edge, raising my hand again. This time, the car slowed, then stopped.

I almost couldn’t believe it.

The window rolled down, and I saw a woman behind the wheel. She had kind eyes, though her expression quickly turned from polite to worried as she looked at me.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself, young lady?” she asked as she got out of the car and came closer.

I forced my face into something between scared and pitiful. “I—I’m lost,” I said softly. “My parents are dead. I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

Her expression softened immediately. “Oh, my poor darling,” she said, placing a hand over her chest. “That’s awful. You shouldn’t be out here alone. I can take you back to the city if you don’t mind.”

Normally, I hated when people pitied me. But right now, pity could save my life.

“Thank you, miss. I’d really appreciate that,” I said, giving her a small, grateful smile.

“Oh, that’s quite alright, dear,” she replied gently. “Come on, hop in. We’ll get you somewhere safe.”

She walked back around to the driver’s seat and opened the passenger door for me. Without hesitation, I climbed in, buckled my seatbelt, and exhaled a shaky breath of relief.

“Thank you,” I said again quietly, glancing at her. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“What? Of course not!” she said with a warm laugh. “I couldn’t just leave you out here. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did.”

She started the engine, the gentle hum of it almost soothing. “My name is Emma Garfield, by the way.”

I smiled, finally allowing myself to relax, just a little. “Amber. Amber White.”

“Lovely name,” she said kindly as she pulled back onto the road.

I turned my head toward the window, watching the trees blur past. My reflection in the glass looked tired, dirty, but for the first time in years, there was something else there too, something like peace.

I smiled to myself, feeling tears sting the corners of my eyes. If I could, I would have hugged her, thanked her a thousand times, maybe even called her mom.

But I didn’t. I just sat there quietly, blessing her in my mind.

If only she knew what she’d really done.

She hadn’t just picked up a lost girl.

She’d saved me, from the monster I once called my father.