Twelve

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I lay awake that night, unable to swat away the hundreds of thoughts and memories that bother me. The talk with Iris had pretty much ended after the mood plummeted. I still wasn't able to find out what had bothered him so much, despite working up the courage to ask him. When I did, the only thing he told me was not to worry about it since it wasn't important. Still, it had to be if he had been that emotional over it. We didn't talk much after that. I spent the rest of the day reading, while Iris brought out a canvas and painted. To my surprise, he was a very good painter, admitting that he had painted the portraits that currently hung in the hallway outside my bedroom. Such colorful and detailed mountain landscapes. Being here alone must have left Iris with plenty of time to build up his natural talents...

But never mind that.

I needed a plan to get out of here and I needed it soon. From the way Iris was speaking earlier he knew his way around, and he had his surroundings mapped out. The map would most likely be in his room if anywhere. I need to get in there so I can search for it. I also have to find my backpack...it had everything I needed in it. My jeans and beige shirt should be fine to wear now, I would need to get them back. Along with my underwear. The boxers suddenly become all too apparent again and I shudder. They were comfortable...but I wasn't going to wear them more than I absolutely had to.

Now all that was left was to decide one thing.

Whether or not Iris was trustworthy.

I had absolutely no clue. He had been very kind to me, and I was very grateful for being saved. At the same time, if I led him to the group and something happened it would be my fault.

But I'll need him if he doesn't have a map.

Damn.

I'll give it one day. Just one. If I can't find the map I have no choice but to bring Iris with me.

With that my mind settles and I finally drift off into sleep.

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My family sits around the table, eating and chatting about our day. I don't listen to the conversation. I always found it repetitive and boring. Even so, it was a requirement in our house to eat dinner at the table together. My mom considered it a way to increase our familial bonds by quality time.

As for me, I was only sitting here because I lived here. It wasn't necessary for me to contribute to quality time.

I flinch as I feel a touch from my right, letting me know that Lily had tapped my shoulder. I barely acknowledge her, my eyes coming up from the beef stew mom had fixed for dinner. Once she sees that she has my attention, Lily only points over to Nolin, where my eyes draw reluctantly. I see the little rat has a smirk on his face, like he had gotten away with the biggest crime with a slap on the wrist.

"Hey Ruth," He starts off, and gets the attention of everyone at the table as he does so. "Why is that place under your eyes so dark? You look so creepy, no wonder you don't have any friends!" As he finishes his sentence he giggles to himself, but it's obviously to mock me.

"Nolin!" My dad snips out in a tone of warning.

My brother simply shrugs and goes back to eating in messy spoonfuls. My parents and Lily start a new conversation, leaving me to sit there in silence.

My hand squeezes tightly where it sits on the placemat in front of me. I'm not hungry any more. I get up, throw the rest of my food out, and place it in the dishwasher.

I go to my room and don't come out for the rest of the night.

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