The Darkness

Chapter 2

Logan crouched down on the forest floor. An arrow notched in his bow, which was balanced on his knee.

The sun streaked through the leaves onto the forest floor. Logan stayed as still as he could, listening and waiting.

The bush opposite of him, rustled loudly, right before a rabbit jumped out of it. Before it could even sniff the air for predators, Logan's arrow went through it's eye.

Logan waited a minute to make sure that there wasn't any other rabbits hiding in the bushes, before standing up and approaching the dead creature.

Logan picked up the dead animal, and ripped the arrow out of it's brains. Logan hooked the animal around his belt, next to the other three.

He sighed, this would have to do. Logan shoved his bow into his quiver, after unstringing it. Normally, he would keep it out incase Logan came across any game by accident.

Logan glanced over his shoulder at the Dark Spot. Thoughts went quickly back to that night, causing shivers to run up his spine.

Logan sighed and shook his head. The past was in the past, he wouldn't have been able to stop what had happened from happening.

Logan walked into town, waving at the people who he knew pretty well. He walked up to the Butchers shop.

The door slammed shut behind him, and Logan walked up to the counter. Putting the rabbits on the table, Logan smiled as Mr. Footsman walked in.

"Back again, Logan, what do you got this time?" Mr. Footsman asked, leaning up against the table.

"Just three rabbits, not the usual amount, but I couldn't stay out any longer. It's my mom's birthday today," Logan told Mr. Footsman.

"Oh yes, isn't that right. Well you wish her a happy birthday for me, won't you?"

"Yes, sir, you got it." Logan told him, glancing at the sun.

"Now, you know the routine. You can either trade the rabbits for something else, or I'll pay you for it," Mr. Footsman told him.

"I think I'll take the money this time," Logan told him.

Mr. Footsman nodded and opened the cash register and pulled out some money. "Here you go, son, have a great rest of the day."

Logan quickly counted the money, then put it on his pocket. "Thanks, you too."

Logan walked home and opened the door. Inside Logan placed his cash in the money jar.

He knew that his parents needed the money more then he did. After everything that happened Mother stopped working and that left all the bills to Father, until Logan became old enough to help out.

"Mama! I'm home!" Logan called. Mama came around the corner of the house.

"Honey, where have you been?!" Mama asked, sharply.

"Outside hunting, the money's in the jar." Logan answered. "Oh, and Mr. Footsman said happy birthday."

Mama, ignoring the second part of what he said, asked. "Were you by the Dark Spot again?!"

When Logan didn't answer, Mama flung her arms up on the air. "Log, you know how I feel about that!!! Why don't you listen to me?!"

"Because it's the only way to get food on the table, and money for the taxes! Cause honestly, Mama, you're not much help!" Logan shouted, but immediately regretted it when he saw the shocked look on Mom's face.

"Mama-"

"No, ya' know, you're right. I should be helping out more, but after what happened, after your sister. I can't, and you know that," Mama said, quietly.

Logan stared at his mother for a minute before shouldering past her. "Happy birthday, Mother," he muttered in her ear, before storming outside.

Logan walked out the back door, and headed behind the shed. Logan strung his bow and shot angrily at the target he had set up years ago.

Each arrow he shot landed in the bulls eye. "Keep your arm up!" A familiar voice called from behind him.

Logan turned around and saw Marita standing there. Logan personally taught her everything she knew about shooting.

Logan smiled slightly, lowered his bow. "You're here early." He told her.

Marita shrugged and walked towards him. "Yes, well, I couldn't stand being away from you any longer."

"Oh and why's that?" Logan asked taking a step closer to Marita.

"Oh... Maybe so I could get you alone for a second..." Marita trailed off.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, so then I could do this," Marita finished with a kiss on Logan's lips.

Logan wrapped arms around Marita's waist and kissed her back deeply. Logan and Marita had been secretly dating for a year. Her dad didn't like Logan very much, so they kept their relationship a secret.

They broke apart, both breathing heavily. "Well, I definitely approve of that reason," Logan told her and she chuckled before growing serious.

"I heard what happened with your mother and you this morning." Marita told him.

Logan quickly became somber. "Yeah, well, my sister died 13 years ago, and she still does nothing. All the work lands on me and Papa."

"I know, but you just need to be patient," Marita told him, setting a comforting hand in his arm.

"Patient! We're barely meeting ends meet, no thanks to her! I mean 13 years, and all she does is buy crap that we don't need!" Marita had heard the rant a hundred, or so times.

Marita, being the darling that she is, put a hand on his cheek. "I don't know what my father sees in you. All I see is a hard working man, trying to take care of his family."

Before Logan could respond his mother's voice drifted from the house. "Logan! Marita! Come here, please! We're about eat!"

"Coming!" Logan shouted back. He faced Marita and kissed her quickly. "Let's go."

They quickly walked up into the house, letting go of each other's hands. "Oh! There you are darlings!" Mother exclaimed, when we walked in the house.

"Good," Papa's voice drifted from the living room, "now we can get this party started."

Papa walked into the kitchen, smiling, Mr. Hendrickson came in after him. "Hello, Mr. Hendrickson," Logan greeted him politely.

Mr. Hendrickson frowned and nodded his head in return.

Marita glanced at me, before going over to her father. "Father? Where's Mama?"

"Marcy couldn't come, but she sends her regards." Mr. Hendrickson directed the last part of his sentence to Mama. Marita's face fell, worry flitting across her graze, but she didn't say anything.

"Oh, yes, give her my thanks, would you? Why couldn't she make it?" Mama asked, always willing to pry.

"Marcy said she wasn't feeling well," Mr. Hendrickson said, concerned for his sick wife showed on face.

"She still hasn't gotten better?!" Mother asked, putting a hand to her mouth.

" 'fraid not, but hopefully soon." Mr. Hendrickson said.

"Yes, we shall keep her in our prayers," Father told him, patting his shoulder.

Papa and Logan were both church going men, but while they were at church Mama stayed home and "mourned her child," or that's what Papa said she did.

"Come, come," Mama waved to the table. "Let's eat."