Small children usually talked and moved much more than this little girl at her apparent age. But the energy that the little ones had was not meant to be kept up in full swing on a dark and chilling late night, especially considering the infant must have walked quite a bit searching for Foofy. Therefore, it made sense in Ingrid's mind that the child's cooperation came precisely from exhaustion. I would want to jump into someone's arms to warm up from the cold too if offered. A playful smile marked the face of the young Brazilian who was briskly walking following the dog at a quick pace to get out of this forest soon. The weight in her arms increased, a result of the little nameless girl's relaxation who now peacefully slept clutching onto the neck of the unknown savior. Ingrid rolled her eyes still smiling, thinking about this inexplicable habit she had of being able to interact indefinitely with someone and never ask for the person's name.
Turning her head to the side of the girl, she could give a little kiss on her temple, being enchanted by the innocent way she breathed through her parted lips, the size of those doll-like eyelashes, those chubby cheeks that made one want to bite them to make her laugh. The pacifier tied to a cloth was over Ingrid's other shoulder, who was just a few steps away from leaving the trail and stepping onto a cobblestone street. The feeling of being in that place that looked like a European painting (or a game where a very handsome cop has to put up with a useless teenage girl screaming his name 35621 times per minute) amid the deafening silence was unsettling to say the least. Imagine if I, goddess forbid, time-traveled to some faraway place from Brazil where I suddenly become the heroine of a story where it's up to me to save everyone from a terrible threat that only I truly understand perfectly because I came from the future and have insider information and a very handsome, strong, and skilled guy in the art of fighting and swordplay ends up falling in love with me? Yes, I'm Kagome within my own Isekai. Lost in her fertile imagination, she ended up laughing at herself, remembering how much she used to love to imagine herself in the world of Inuyasha when it was still her favorite anime until before watching Attack on Titan.
Entering cautiously into what seemed to be a village built in the Middle Ages, Ingrid wondered what her next step would be, really hoping it wouldn't involve being mistaken for a child kidnapper because of the time and her clothes. The possibility was real and could lead to a lynching, depending on how the population was, and without a cellphone and documents (which she left at home), there was no way she could prove she was just a woman lost in the forest who happened to find this child. Not knowing the name, age, or anything about the girl in her lap only made things worse. Shit. I'm screwed. Taking a deep breath, now with her arms very sore, Ingrid was planning her A, B, C, and D plans to leave the girl safely at her home, wherever it was, and protect herself from any suspicions of kidnapping. I have an idea!
In her 30 years of life, she had to learn when to tread lightly, when to lie, when to pretend, when to manipulate, when to play with words to convince the other that she was believing in something she wasn't to survive. Survive from uncontrolled, wicked, and cruel people. Memories began to pass through her mind. Memories of experiences she was determined to protect the innocent girl from whom Ingrid didn't mind enduring the pain in her arms to continue giving her comfort.
Her eyes searched for anyone who might look like a guard or police officer, while her swollen and painful feet continued to follow the dog in front of her, never ceasing to look over her shoulder to see if there was anyone who might emerge from behind. Without much hope, she began to chant daimoku mentally again, her source of courage and hope in these moments. It will work out. Tomorrow this night will be just a memory.
Just when hope began to fill her heart, a frightening sight made her heart race, and in panic, all she could do, paralyzed and with legs locked, was, screaming, to turn her body and use her arms and hands to protect the little girl in her lap who now cried, scared by the screams.
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The Millenial Loser: From hell to Paradis
FanfictionIngrid is the epitome of a failing millennial at 30 years old. Dumped by yet another boyfriend, a troubled relationship with her family, her only friend lives abroad, and she is overweight, sedentary, broke, uneducated, and now unemployed. All she k...
