Silver Lining - The Host fanfiction

Chapter 2 The Golden Child

You can’t play on broken strings

You can’t dance with broken wings

There is no need for you to cry

A fallen bird will simply…

 

 

I look up at the sound of a roaring engine, but I don’t really need to. I already know who it is and I pull a face when the blue sport car makes its way across the school’s parking lot. It’s not that I dislike Blake Southerbee. It’s not his fault his parents are so wealthy, but does he really have to show it off like that?
As usual when Blake shows up, other students swarm around his car. He winks at the girls and roughhouses with some guys before making his way over to where I’m sitting. I roll my eyes and return to my sketching.
“Morning squirky,” he grins.
“Piss off Blake.”
He throws his bag at my feet and sits down next to me. He glances at my sketchbook. “You’re good,” he says, “why don’t you ever let anyone see those?”

I close my sketchbook and turn to him. “You and I are not friends.”
“But we might be.” Blake flashes his smile at me. The one that makes so many girls swoon over him. I sigh.
Don’t get me wrong. Blake is not a bad guy. He’s rich, but he’s no ass. He’s popular and good looking, but no player. He doesn’t feel like he’s above anyone else. He’s actually a nice guy. I’m not sure why I don’t want to be around him. It’s not like people don’t know my parents are just as rich as his. Maybe it’s that whenever our parents drag us to another beneficial, he looks just as unhappy as me, while at school he acts like he doesn’t care. I don’t know. Maybe it’s something else.
The bell rings and saves me from answering him. Without a word I gather my things and escape into the school.

 

***

 

I wake with a start and realize he ringing wasn’t part of the dream. I can still hear it somewhere close by. A train… I’m too close to town. I can’t really remember how long I’ve been running since the seekers invaded my hide-out, but I must have lost them somewhere during the night. That I fell asleep only proves how exhausted I’ve been. I’m pretty sure I burned off all the food I ate yesterday. Luckily I saved a bag of chips. I guess that will be my breakfast. But first I need to get away from here. Those seekers might still be around.
Carefully I crawl to my feet and wince as one of my knees buckles. I glance down and notice a large cut on my left calf.
That’s right, I forgot. I cut it last night in my escape attempt.
It needs cleaning. So I need to find my way back to the river. I just hope no one is hiking today.
As I stumble towards the stream, the dream comes back to me. It’s been a long time since I’ve dreamt of my old life, back when the world was still normal. I haven’t been back there since they raided the town. That place no longer holds any meaning. It’s just a point on a map now. Somewhere I used to live
            I wonder sometimes who lives there now. Who lives in my parents’ bodies, my friends’? Do they remember me? Somewhere in the memories they used to have, do I still exist? Or do the memories disappear when the person is gone? What defines who we really are?
In my parents’ case, I can never be sure. They seemed to forget I existed quite often. They were the kind of parents that would say, ‘we bought you everything we could afford, what more do you need?’
Maybe I’m not being fair. I’m sure in their own way they must have loved me. But maybe them never being around makes me miss them a little less. Does that make me a horrible person?

I sigh in relief when I find the river abandoned, but I know to stay on alert. Seekers don’t give up that easily. Especially now that they have seen me. Seekers are like bloodhounds. For the time being it seems I have shaken them off, but they’ll be back. I need to move on before they find me again.