“Don’t move or I’ll hit you!” threatened the boy holding a stick. I studied the boy, who looked about my age, and decided that he was no threat. After all, he wasn’t even an adult.
I raised my hands above my head and show that I had given up. He obviously did not realize that my fist was clenched on a tiny object, waiting for the right moment to strike, and his whole body relaxed.
He came nearer to tie me up. I waited for him to approach looking afraid. He was about to grab my hand when, in a swift motion, I hit him with the stone in my hand and picked up his stick.
“Move an inch and I’ll hit you,” I told him, smirking. I dragged him to a tree and tied him against it.
“Now, what are you doing here?” I asked in mock politeness. He glared at me until I pointed the stick that once belonged to him at him and thought better of talking back. He sighed and said, "Running away from home.”
“Really?” I asked, trying to keep hope of having a companion out of my voice. “Why?”
“My parents are horrible! They never care about me. Money money money, that’s all they can think about. Even though they are already so rich!” He exclaimed. My heart dropped. No matter how much I hope for a companion, there was no way I was going to let him stay. His parents’ would be worried. He didn’t know how caring parents can be. He still has them.
I know, how about me, right? I ran away from the orphan home, not my parents. It’s different. You couldn’t understand unless you were the victim of those crazy kids who run around bullying younger kids like... well, like me. Where are my parents? They are in paradise. They went there and one day, they will come and bring me to that paradise with them. Heaven. Or at least that’s what I’ve always thought.
“Are you crazy?” I exclaimed. “You can’t worry your parents like that! It’s irresponsible. Return to them!”
“Didn’t you run away from home too? You look about twelve and you can’t possibly be just roaming,” he challenged. The incident of what happened that fateful day replayed in my mind. My daily, or nightly, nightmare.
I was in the car with my family and my father was driving. I was turning three that day and we were going to an amusement park. I couldn’t remember anything else except for…
Crash! A truck crashed into our car. Through blurry images, I saw a man getting out of the truck. He was walking towards us, swaying vigorously, and then he fainted onto the floor. My mother and father were unconscious. The world was swaying, or was it me? My vision blurred and I started seeing stars. Then, I blacked out.
I collapsed onto the ground as uncontrollable tears rolled down my cheeks. “Are you okay?” The boy asked in a small voice sounding a bit worried, shaking me back into reality.
I nodded. Before I knew it, I was blubbering. I told him about the accident, my first day at the orphanage, how I got bullied, the day I ran away when I was five, the time when I was ten and I met that horrible grizzly bear…
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, looking genuinely sorry. I hoped he would say he will go back to his parents.
“I’ll go back when they start searching for me. I want to know if they care enough. By the way, I’m Timothy,” he told me.
“Jane,” I replied and his mouth turned into a comical “o” shape in surprise. I stared and demanded, “What?”
“You are Jane Evans? The one with so many notices put up of her. It’s been... what, 7 years?” I blushed deeply and changed the topic.
"Can’t you just be happy that you have living parents and go home?” He shook his head and I could almost see how much resilience he was going to put up.
After a heated argument, he finally agreed that he wasn’t experienced enough to go in the wild but instead of returning to home...
“I’ll come with you. You have already been in the wild for 7 years,” he pointed you. I sighed deeply but agreed. It was the best solution until his stupid parents (they’d better hurry up and search for him) come along searching for him.
I brought him back to my tent. On the way I pointed out many things to him.
“See that, that’s a riped ands safe berry. That one is poisonous and that one probably has an animal in it so we’d better not take...” Well, one thing was for certain, he was not good at picking berries. He nearly picked up a poisonous berry.
“That one?”
“Poisonous.”
“That one?”
“Probably has animal.”
“That one?”
“Probably has animal.”
“That one?”
“Yes, but it was luck, wasn’t it?” He blushed deep red and I sighed. “I’ll pick them myself,” I said as I went around picking berries and planting them into his hands.
“Can’t pick them, hold them.” I said, grinning at him.
“Whatever!”
“You just can’t admit you lose to a girl.”
“What?! No!” He cried indigantly.
“Whatever!” I replied, imitating him. “Done. Enough berries for tonight and hopefully tomorrow. Let’s go.” He nodded and we headed back to my tent. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had a real family again. Someone human beside me.
Days past and everyday, the same thing happens over and over again. He stayed in the tent and pack up, clean up, protect with his stick.Though I could have done a better job since I knew some animals like squirrels and sometimes rabbits who would inform me of what beast was coming beforehand but with his help, I could leave the tent and go further to collect more berries.
The most interesting one was when my darling squirrel came over and signalled to me that she didn’t have enough food. I let her in to share food with us, like I always do when she didn’t have enough food. Timothy looked surprise.
“You talk squirrels?”
“No, of course not. It’s her body language.” Timothy nodded though he didn’t seem reassured. I’ll tell her you’re a friend,” I said starting to signal the squirrel.
“NO!” he yelled and the squirrel jumped. “You might signal wrongly... It might intepret to enemy... or... or...” I laughed and move forward slowly, coaxing the squirrel forward and telling her Timothy was a friend. Inch by inch, the squirrel came forward and finally, she continued eating peacefully. Timothy looked impressed and sighed with admiration.
Although life seemed pretty normal, it felt great to be able to talk to someone who would reply and understand. Smile and respond. It was probably my best days since the car crash.
Days past and I was having a great time. Normally, in a week time, you can't have become great friends with someone but this was different. We're in the wild and here, things works differently. However, good things don’t last forever.
A week later, I returned from plucking wild berries. I shoved a paper into his hand. He looked at it in surprise. His parents had finally put up lost notices and started looking for him.
"Time to go,” I told him but to my surprise, he shook his head. I was about to say “You promised!” when he said, “Come with me.” I was about to insisted that this was my home but the offer was too tempting. I couldn’t say no to a friend who cared about me, parents and a real home. I nodded but after thinking for a moment, requested for something...
A month has passed since everything have settled down. His parents officially adopted me, I started school, made new friends and most importantly, had a pet name Chocolate. I’m sure you can guess who Chocolate is. Yes, the wonderful squirrel whom I helped many times and helped me in return by telling me the grizzly bear was coming.
"So how's life?" Timothy asked cautiously, as though afraid that I might be angry, upset or depressed by the new life.
“Wonderful,” I replied. “Thanks for being my friend.” He smiled and the room seemed to brighten up a bit. Having friends felt strangely good.
Apparently, good things don’t last forever. They end, bringing better things.
by Happy Snow (It's up to you)
I raised my hands above my head and show that I had given up. He obviously did not realize that my fist was clenched on a tiny object, waiting for the right moment to strike, and his whole body relaxed.
He came nearer to tie me up. I waited for him to approach looking afraid. He was about to grab my hand when, in a swift motion, I hit him with the stone in my hand and picked up his stick.
“Move an inch and I’ll hit you,” I told him, smirking. I dragged him to a tree and tied him against it.
“Now, what are you doing here?” I asked in mock politeness. He glared at me until I pointed the stick that once belonged to him at him and thought better of talking back. He sighed and said, "Running away from home.”
“Really?” I asked, trying to keep hope of having a companion out of my voice. “Why?”
“My parents are horrible! They never care about me. Money money money, that’s all they can think about. Even though they are already so rich!” He exclaimed. My heart dropped. No matter how much I hope for a companion, there was no way I was going to let him stay. His parents’ would be worried. He didn’t know how caring parents can be. He still has them.
I know, how about me, right? I ran away from the orphan home, not my parents. It’s different. You couldn’t understand unless you were the victim of those crazy kids who run around bullying younger kids like... well, like me. Where are my parents? They are in paradise. They went there and one day, they will come and bring me to that paradise with them. Heaven. Or at least that’s what I’ve always thought.
“Are you crazy?” I exclaimed. “You can’t worry your parents like that! It’s irresponsible. Return to them!”
I went towards to the tree and untied him intending to drag him home when he crossed the line.
“Didn’t you run away from home too? You look about twelve and you can’t possibly be just roaming,” he challenged. The incident of what happened that fateful day replayed in my mind. My daily, or nightly, nightmare.
I was in the car with my family and my father was driving. I was turning three that day and we were going to an amusement park. I couldn’t remember anything else except for…
Crash! A truck crashed into our car. Through blurry images, I saw a man getting out of the truck. He was walking towards us, swaying vigorously, and then he fainted onto the floor. My mother and father were unconscious. The world was swaying, or was it me? My vision blurred and I started seeing stars. Then, I blacked out.
I collapsed onto the ground as uncontrollable tears rolled down my cheeks. “Are you okay?” The boy asked in a small voice sounding a bit worried, shaking me back into reality.
I nodded. Before I knew it, I was blubbering. I told him about the accident, my first day at the orphanage, how I got bullied, the day I ran away when I was five, the time when I was ten and I met that horrible grizzly bear…
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, looking genuinely sorry. I hoped he would say he will go back to his parents.
“I’ll go back when they start searching for me. I want to know if they care enough. By the way, I’m Timothy,” he told me.
“Jane,” I replied and his mouth turned into a comical “o” shape in surprise. I stared and demanded, “What?”
“You are Jane Evans? The one with so many notices put up of her. It’s been... what, 7 years?” I blushed deeply and changed the topic.
"Can’t you just be happy that you have living parents and go home?” He shook his head and I could almost see how much resilience he was going to put up.
After a heated argument, he finally agreed that he wasn’t experienced enough to go in the wild but instead of returning to home...
“I’ll come with you. You have already been in the wild for 7 years,” he pointed you. I sighed deeply but agreed. It was the best solution until his stupid parents (they’d better hurry up and search for him) come along searching for him.
I brought him back to my tent. On the way I pointed out many things to him.
“See that, that’s a riped ands safe berry. That one is poisonous and that one probably has an animal in it so we’d better not take...” Well, one thing was for certain, he was not good at picking berries. He nearly picked up a poisonous berry.
“That one?”
“Poisonous.”
“That one?”
“Probably has animal.”
“That one?”
“Probably has animal.”
“That one?”
“Yes, but it was luck, wasn’t it?” He blushed deep red and I sighed. “I’ll pick them myself,” I said as I went around picking berries and planting them into his hands.
“Can’t pick them, hold them.” I said, grinning at him.
“Whatever!”
“You just can’t admit you lose to a girl.”
“What?! No!” He cried indigantly.
“Whatever!” I replied, imitating him. “Done. Enough berries for tonight and hopefully tomorrow. Let’s go.” He nodded and we headed back to my tent. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had a real family again. Someone human beside me.
Days past and everyday, the same thing happens over and over again. He stayed in the tent and pack up, clean up, protect with his stick.Though I could have done a better job since I knew some animals like squirrels and sometimes rabbits who would inform me of what beast was coming beforehand but with his help, I could leave the tent and go further to collect more berries.
The most interesting one was when my darling squirrel came over and signalled to me that she didn’t have enough food. I let her in to share food with us, like I always do when she didn’t have enough food. Timothy looked surprise.
“You talk squirrels?”
“No, of course not. It’s her body language.” Timothy nodded though he didn’t seem reassured. I’ll tell her you’re a friend,” I said starting to signal the squirrel.
“NO!” he yelled and the squirrel jumped. “You might signal wrongly... It might intepret to enemy... or... or...” I laughed and move forward slowly, coaxing the squirrel forward and telling her Timothy was a friend. Inch by inch, the squirrel came forward and finally, she continued eating peacefully. Timothy looked impressed and sighed with admiration.
Although life seemed pretty normal, it felt great to be able to talk to someone who would reply and understand. Smile and respond. It was probably my best days since the car crash.
Days past and I was having a great time. Normally, in a week time, you can't have become great friends with someone but this was different. We're in the wild and here, things works differently. However, good things don’t last forever.
A week later, I returned from plucking wild berries. I shoved a paper into his hand. He looked at it in surprise. His parents had finally put up lost notices and started looking for him.
"Time to go,” I told him but to my surprise, he shook his head. I was about to say “You promised!” when he said, “Come with me.” I was about to insisted that this was my home but the offer was too tempting. I couldn’t say no to a friend who cared about me, parents and a real home. I nodded but after thinking for a moment, requested for something...
A month has passed since everything have settled down. His parents officially adopted me, I started school, made new friends and most importantly, had a pet name Chocolate. I’m sure you can guess who Chocolate is. Yes, the wonderful squirrel whom I helped many times and helped me in return by telling me the grizzly bear was coming.
"So how's life?" Timothy asked cautiously, as though afraid that I might be angry, upset or depressed by the new life.
“Wonderful,” I replied. “Thanks for being my friend.” He smiled and the room seemed to brighten up a bit. Having friends felt strangely good.
Apparently, good things don’t last forever. They end, bringing better things.
by Happy Snow (It's up to you)
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