The Ruins

Stranger ; II

(F)

I stretch, my arms above my head, and yawn. The floor is, not surprisingly, uncomfortable to sleep on. I get on my hands and knees and crawl to the 'window' (hole in the wall), and stand up, using the windowsill to assist myself.

"God, fucking- damnit!" My head darts in the direction of the voice soon enough to watch as a boy pops out of the bushes, sticks and leaves stuck in his hair. Bloody scratches cover his arms and face. I watch as brushes himself off, and shakes his hair out like a wet dog (presumably to get the sticks and leaves out of it).

I duck down, my head and eyes high enough to still peep out of the window. My fingers hold onto the dusty bricks. I probably look like a gremlin or something of the like right now.

"Where the fuck even am I!?" He shouts into the forest, before turning and gazing at the crumbled building in front of him. I stare at him through the window, my head peeking above the windowsill. I watch as he carefully inspects the ruins.

He grumbles to himself. "Fantastic... fucking fantastic!" He shouts as he kicks a stone into the ruins... which just so happens to hit me directly in the forehead.

"Shit!" I yell as it makes impact with my face. I fall back with a pained groan, holding my forehead.

"Oh, God, dude! Are you okay!?" He runs up to the window I was staring at him from. "I'm so sorry! I didn't realize anyone else was here!" He says as he climbs through, falling to his knees next to me. His hands are held out as if he's trying to heal my injury.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. No need to cause a commotion." I tell the panicked boy as I sit up, touching my forehead and pulling my hand away from it. No blood, thank goodness.

He chuckles and plops down next to me, legs crossed and hands planted on the ground behind him. "Why do you talk like that?"

"What do you mean?" I respond.

"Like you're in the 1800s or some shit." He says with a slight smile.

"Its simply how I was raised." I tell him. I finally get a good look at him. Straight nose, nice cheek bones, square-like face, somewhat tan skin. I couldn't see his eyes, however. His dark, messy hair was resting overtop of them.

"Might I ask what you're ethnicity is?" I blurt out.

"Weird first question. Not even gonna ask my name first?" He fakes a pout. "But, to answer your question... my mom is Icelandic, and my dad is Greek." He tells me. "I've got kind of a...mix of their features."

"I see. Interesting." I say and look down at the dark planks underneath us. "What's your name? Since you seemed so... pouty about it."

"My name is Jude." He says.

"Jude isn't a Greek or Icelandic name. It's Latin." I point out.

"What can I say? My parents liked the name. It's not like I had a say in it, I was a fuckin' baby."

"Last name?" I question.

"Júlíusdóttir." Jude says.

"Lovely to meet you, Jude." I say as I hold my hand out, waiting for him to shake it.

He stares at my hand, baffled, before freeing a loud laugh and punching me in the arm.

I yelp.

"Oh, fuck... sorry, it's a habit." He says. "Anyways... what about you? Your name?"

"Finneas Silas." I tell him.

"Sick name, dude. Ya mind if I call ya Finn?"

"Whatever. Do as you wish, I suppose."

We sit in silence for a few minutes, just staring out of the hole I'd been staring at him from. Nothing but the rustling of leaves, the soft creaking of the abandoned house, and the sound of the wind. It was a rather comfortable moment; Two teenage boys sitting in forgotten ruins, keeping one another company in the dim evening.

"Hey, Finn." Jude suddenly speaks up. "Y'wanna explore this place with me?"

I sit silently for a moment, still staring at the hole. "Alright. I don't see any reason as to why I shouldn't."

Jude smiles. "Sweet! C'mon!" He stands quickly, and pulls me up by my hands.

He drags me behind him, exploring the house... starry-eyed, a teethy smile. I'm sure I could get out of his grip. It's really quite light. But... it's alright. For now.