Whispers of a Past || ON HOLD

Chapter 2: What Now?

[Seward, Nebraska. January 13th, 2017]

  Silence lapses between us as five minutes ticks away on the digital clock. Deep and unsettling with a hint of awkwardness.

  Only the soft background noise of Beethoven's symphony number nine to fill my mind.

  I shift in my seat again, clearing my throat. "So I know you probably want to go to the authorities about all this - which I completely understand why you would." I ramble, quickly glancing over at mister silent.

  Even though it technically wasn't my fault. He should've been watching where he was running.

He's stayed completely quiet this whole time. Remaining absolutely still in his seat as his eyes roam the interior of the Jeep.

I feel his gaze move to me as I speak. "You know, sue me and all that logical stuff." I throw my fingers up on the steering wheel. "So I figure I can stop by sheriff Dave-" I'm abruptly cut off, my head swinging over towards him in surprise.

  "No. No authorities."

  I raise an eyebrow. So he does speak English...Which means I totally made a complete idiot out of myself earlier.

  Lets never talk about this again shall we.

  He seems to tighten his hold on his injured shoulder, eyebrows scrunching together as he seems to think deeply about something.

  Okay....Well that works for me I suppose.

  Though it is a little suspicious. But then again, what teenager wants to go to the authorities?

  "Uh....okay." I shrug, returning my full attention to the road. The forest thinning out as we prepare to leave it behind.

  But then there's his injurious....

"So should I take you to the town doctor? Or I can even drive you the extra hour towards the nearest hospital?" I offer. Because yes. I am nice here.

  I see his head slightly shake from the corner of my eye. "No hospitals or doctors." His voice comes out quiet, barely above a whisper.

  I give him a quick incredulous look, raising my voice. "Um, I hate to break it to you, buddy. But I don't think your arm is exactly considered normal." I point out.

  He stays silent for a second as he contemplates my words, his head turned to the right as he gazes out the window.

"I'm fine." He finally states, his voice growing a little harder.

  Okay. Sheesh. No need to get grumpy about it.

  I make a face, taking a left onto a more populated road. "Well where do you live? I'll drop you off then."

  He can figure out what to do with himself.

  Five seconds lapses between us, and I look over as I come to a red stoplight. Civilization noticeably up the road.

  His head sits angled down to his lap, his right hand tightening into a fist as a troublesome expression grows across his face.

  What?

He slowly looks up, confusion etched clearly across his features. He swallows, and I'm almost not prepared for the amount of despair that leaks into his voice.

  "I-I don't know."

My heart stops, my breath catching.

  No. Oh no, no, no, no, NO. This can not be happening! How can this be happening? I didn't want this. Any of it.