ALL THAT WAS LEFT BEHIND

Chapter the Last

"Lincoln? What are you doing here?" Samuel barked, taking charge of the situation without a blink of a faltering.

Lincoln swung his leg off the bike after it hummed to a rest, and ditched it on the ground. He stood there in front of us for an awkward moment, and everyone was staring at each other. Something then snapped in the tension surrounding us, and he sprung into life, sprinting towards Samuel like a raged African cat.

All while I stood and watched in utter bewilderment.

Samuel's long legs heaved to the porch, bounding up the creaky wooden steps in attempt to escape my attacking uncle.

They struggled on the porch for a moment, as I was lost in the sudden confusion, until they fell into the house. Each of them tried to shove each other out, but seemed to be of equal strength, despite Lincoln's scrawniness.

Grunts howled into the air, and fists collided. Spit flew like a long sticky butterfly, and I looked away.

They disappeared into the house, leaving my heart concealed in my chest, thudding against my ribs.

I watched carefully after that for any trace of activity, but saw no trace of the events occurring inside. The knot in my stomach tightened, and I feared for Samuel's safety.

The sound of the wind then twirled through the air, making a whistling sound that howled amongst the trees. I listened to her sorrowful cry, urging it to stop, urging everything to stop. I found myself wanting to stop time all together, to where I wouldn't see my trembling hands shake in my lap as I sat on the cold ground, or feel the restless urge to run away from the fiery nerves.

I leaned my head against the hard, thick tree, and focused on my breathing. In, and out. It calmed me for a little while. Looking up to the sky, through the canopy up ahead of the gnarled branches, small patches of the sky could be visible. It was a perfect shade of navy blue, as brackish and wild as the as a running river, and with the small faint glows of the stars, speckled across it, like jewels hidden beneath the surface of it.

It would have been a perfect gem of a night. If only I couldn't hear the shouts and discrepancies from the house, and if only my mind wasn't racing with possible schemes to stop it, the night would have been quite lovely for someone else.

***

Lincoln bashed him on the head again, with that stupid rock. He felt the pressure build up to that point while he laid on the ground, trying to mentally figure out where he went. He tried to look around from his awkward positioning, and through the ringing of his ears.

The house was just as wide as it appeared on the outside. The front room stretched out far, with only a small sitting area set up in the corner, by the window. It was occupied by a series of bookcases, all aliened at the faded, brown walls. They all carried old copies of mostly unrecognizable titles to Samuel, for he didn't read all that much. It had an awfully old fashioned and simple appeal to it. He soaked it all in as he padded around on the wooden floor, carefully inspecting each tiny detail, careful not to miss anything. A tall, dim lamp stood dully in the corner by all the chairs, illuminating the room just enough to have it aglow with a peculiar glow.

Samuel knew that Lincoln had already hurried away into a room just at the far right side of the room, behind a chipping dark green door, fashioned with a sparkly golden doorknob. He felt as though he stepped back in time with how vintage everything appeared.

He repositioned himself, lifting his body so that he was on his hands and knees. He breathed for a moment, and ripped the bandage off his head, figuring that it wouldn't do him much good anyways. The sticky fabric fell to the floor when he released it as he stood up.