Within The Cave- Originals

Chapter 9

The door to my room opens, lightly, making low creaks. I shuffle under the sheets, covering my face and open my eyes.

"Claire." Mom calls.

I take the sheets off of my face and sit up, looking at her. She's wearing a simple, mid-night blue gown, stopping below her knees, bringing out her ivory, natural, undertone skin. Mascara on her eyelashes, with a light makeup, her lighter, straight, rusty-blonde hair is worn in a top-knot with ribbons, holding it together. Her legs are covered in black socks, shoe-less.

"Ma." I answer, raising my head at her.

"Good morning, how are you?" She leaves the knob, leaving the door open as well as she approaches the bed. She sits next to me, while I give her an answer.

"I'm good. How are you? You look stressed." I say, concern in my tone.

Oh, now I realize the reason why she's using mascara, it is to cover the swelling like bulges in her eyes. Her features are dull as she force out a ghost of a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. She's only putting up strength in front of me, but I know better. I'm not a kid anymore.

"I think I am okay for now. It's just the work. There are lots of people,
rushed into the hospital yesterday. We are still treating them till now. Said, there's a fatal accident caused by an unknown occurrence. Well, that's what the policeman told me yesterday. I will need to go back this morning. There are not many staffs, working in that hospital and my help will count. I came here to tell you that. But I promise, when I come back, we will discuss everything we haven't discussed — school problems, boys and others. We love you, Rayne." She finishes and lean closer to kiss my forehead. I smile genuinely back at her in a childish manner.

"Aren't you vexed?" She ask. Her expression is fazed. Is she expecting me to get angry?

"I am not. Why would I be? Your job is to save lives and if you have an opportunity to, why should I stop you?" I ask, a bit annoyed.

Mom brushes my hair, messing it than before, and laugh, watching me with precious eyes like I'm a jewel before her amber eyes.

"Maybe I think wrong of you."

"Oh, you do, ma." I tell her, making her laugh.

"I have prepared apple pie and pancakes for you. It's in the kitchen — your choice for breakfast."

"Thanks." I say with a smile, touching my eyes, on my face.

Mom takes her stand and go out of the room, closing the door gently.

I shift my gaze to the window, and pull up the curtains, before sliding the sill upwards to have a clear view of the woods on the outside, but it is of no help at all. The foggy weather has arise too much that makes seeing a hard thing to do. Nevertheless, I watch the unmoving large trees, listen to the low chirping sound of the birds around the area, and observe the inner parts, that's intensely unclear to my sight.

Moving my watching eyes from ends to ends, I caught something and stop, peering at it, attentively. For a moment, I thought it was probably my imaginations or rather, a part of tree, torn from the effects of the wind until it moves. It is staring at you, Rayne. Unknowingly, the thought comes to my mind. I hastily shake it away.

The shape looks like a human male, but I couldn't be sure. Before I could be at all precise what it is, the frame runs off. I gasp and fall back into bed, totally losing balance. It was there for a moment, and then, it is gone. It had looked like a human being — maybe the man, who helped me the other night. If it's him, does this mean, he's leaving in the woods?

"And, um, I forgot to tell you, a friend of yours — Hayden is here. So, hurry up." Mom informs me, tucking her head into the small space of the opened door.

"Are you okay? Why are you in that position?" She ask, her forehead wrinkles.

I change my startled position caused by what I had seen earlier. I'm losing my mind, I guess.

"Nothing, I'm okay. I will go get ready." I roll off the bed and rush to the bathroom, not glancing back to see if mother has left yet.

In the bathroom, I quickly brush my teeth, had a sharp bath, and put on a plain black, simple gown, stopping at my thighs, a red face-cap, letting my hair to draw at my back, reaching my ribs. A red, flat sandal, with a black, leather wrist watch, and then, my school bag.

I check myself in the mirror sharply, before I check the wall clock at sideward to the portraits of a random beach and it's sceneries — it has been twenty minutes since mom has informed me about Hayden's arrival. More so, we are technically almost late for school.

Getting to the kitchen island, I find Hayden, sitting on one of the golden-structured chairs, pressing her phone, and eating an apple pie with apple cider next to the plate.

"Morning. I'm sorry, I kept you waiting."

Her head raises to watch me. Her eyes grow big, shocked, I assume her to be. She releases a smile at me, her eyes, going up and down, peering at me.

"Um, it's nothing. Morning. You look beautiful. Black looks good on you, the red helps in the ravishing the glow." She compliments and I flush, looking down at my fingers that are entwine together, tapping my thighs. I obviously don't know how to take in compliments.

"Thanks." I say back, still looking down. I glance at her, seeing her flashing white teeth at me. "Mom has left for work, right?"

I take that as my way of escape from her flushing-causing compliment and eyes, watching me. I make my way to the fridge and open it, taking out a glassy jug of blended fruit juice from it. I pour its chilled content into a glass cup and return the jug back into the fridge.

I pick two pancakes into my plate and sit opposite Hayden, and take in her appearance; blue and white shirt, white leggings, white sneakers, brown face-cap, and light makeup. She doesn't look bad herself, beautiful in her golden, caramel skin. Maybe it is true after all, that we have some things in common.

"We are late, you know?" I ask. Hayden raises her gaze from her phone to me and nods.

"Yeah." She croaks. "Your mom is a great cook." I smile at her, as a reply to her compliment.

"I know."

I pick the piece with my hands and eat the pancake from them, not bothering to pick any cutlery. Hayden finishes her food before me. She joins me again when she is done with washing her plate, which I argue with her not to do.

Gulping down the cake with my drink, I question.

"Your car, or mine?"

"I brought my bicycle, we are taking it to school. It will be fun." She adds. Is she trying to entice me with that? I hate taking bicycles to far, especially commercial places.

"No, Hayden. I can't. I don't even have one." I lie. Now a professional one, uh? I wish I could slap that being in me that owns thoughts sometimes, like now. She's too troublesome.

"I saw it outside before your mom told me, certifying that it is yours."

My mom will give me away. I say in my head.

"It's too dangerous." I try another approach.

"Let us do this, Rayne. I want you to enjoy the chill breeze of Murrysville, while on a bicycle. It will be ecstatic for you."

"I don't know, Hayden."

"Let's do this, Rayne."

I sigh, knowing it is no point arguing over this particular matter.

"Okay." I give in, finishing with my food and drink. I take it to the kitchen and rinse it with my hands instead of the dishwasher.

"I also don't use the dishwasher that much." Hayden state. Her eyes are fixed to its figure.

"Me too."