Peter was fully aware of how pathetic he must have looked to her. However, given his current circumstances, he could care less about appearances.
"G..get it to stop.. please.." He grabbed onto her hand tightly, as if it was his last link to the known world.
"Calm your breathing, first," The woman instructed. "Take deep breaths, Peter. Relax your muscles and unclench your fists."
Peter was hesitant, but obediently followed her orders, one after the other, until he was leaning against her side. He was still panting, which was just as embarrassing as pleading for help, it seemed; however, again, he did not register this at the moment.
"In, one, two, three.. out, one, two, three.." The stranger counted his breaths until his heaving subsided.
It was at this point that he realized the blood had stopped pouring over his vision. He blinked away the pearly red clots in his line of sight, finally able to catch a glimpse of the strange woman he was leaning against.
When his eyes focused on her, he felt a surge of warmth rush to his cheeks. He felt the embarrassment knock his knees into being wobbly and unbalanced; he felt it squeeze the air from his stomach. Peter fell lax onto her side, wiping his bloodied face onto the back of his hand.
"It stopped.. good. That means it's teachable. Listen, for a minute." She grabbed a hold of him, giving him a look of concern. "That wasn't some act of God. It all has an explanation, and I promise that is what you'll hear if you come with me. I just need you to understand that these situations come with responsibilities you might not agree with in the beginning."
Peter nodded dumbly, wiping the dried blood from his cheeks and nose. He was still shivering, too afraid to disagree with her.
"Are you willing to leave this all behind for now?"
When she said those words, Peter thought of his mother. He looked back at the flowers he dropped when he crumpled to the ground minutes ago. After looking back up at the mysterious, beautiful woman, he whispered a timid response.
She nodded in understanding, wrapping her arms more firmly around him, and held him to her side.
While they walked, leaving Peter's ordinary little neighborhood behind, he began to dread what future lay ahead of him.
YOU ARE READING
London Witch
General FictionPeter Bennett had always wondered why his mother passed away before he got to meet her. He had always pondered this, in silence, as if to avoid pressuring his father to compensate for her absence. However, in doing so, he begins to follow the breadc...
