Tough Luck, High Hopes (ON HIATUS)

Gracie

The thing that just devoured them is sucking on their bones. They're gone. My parents. Dead. Because of this thing in front of me.

I wiped tears away from my eyes as I raised a foot to step out from behind the table I'm behind to make a run for it. Slowly, I lowered it, hoping the thing eating the marrow from the bones wouldn't hear me. Or see me, for that matter. A floorboard creaked when I took a fourth step, leaving me in the middle of the hall. The thing's head swiveled towards me, looking just to the right of my face. I realized it was blind.

I tiptoed quickly, a bit louder than wished, and ducked behind a tipped cabinet. Almost everything in this abandoned store was tipped over. The small sample table I was behind, this black, misplaced cabinet, and even the counter was shattered. The monster's misshapen face curled into a snarl as it lunged. The screeching sound it made when it hit the cabinet almost made my ears bleed. I readied myself for death as it screamed again- before stopping abruptly.

Peeking my head out from behind my hiding spot, I saw the body of the murderous thing slump to the floor as a figure pulled a knife out of the back of its head. It was a woman, looking in her late teens, with brown hair stuffed in messy ponytail. She wiped off the knife and looked at me. Even thought they were plain, her eyes were a beautiful, clear brown. She was beautiful. And scowling.

"You," she started, pointing her knife at me, "should be more careful. Those things are dangerous."

"I wasn't the one that attracted it." My voice sounded a bit... snobby.

"Who made a loud noise here?" Her voice was deadpan. I never understood how people could train their voice to be expressionless.

"Well..." I admit. "My parent were yelling."

She waved her arms in a wild gesture. "There you go. Next time, your parents will learn."

My eyes watered at this. "There will be no next time." I pointed to the pile of bones and entrails. "That's them."

She turned, pocketing her knife. She stared at it for a while, keeping her hand on her pocket, where her weapon rested. It felt like an eternity later, but I knew it was about a minute. She finally faced me, her face a bit more worn than before.

"I'm truly sorry." Even though I didn't know her or her emotions, she did look sorry. Her eyes shied away from mine, looking everywhere but my face. She backed up and met my face, her eyes on my forehead, not my eyes.

"I wish you luck. And, uh." She paused, then looked into my eyes. "I like your hair."

It was awkward, but still a compliment. I twirled a finger around a curly, aqua strand.

"Thanks." This was heading towards an awkward conversation.

"What's your name?" I blurt. She looked at me funny. She mumbled something, but I couldn't hear it correctly.

"Your name is Charlie?" I clarified. She looked at me and narrowed her eyes.

"Sure." She looked skeptical and turned around, walking away. I followed her. She stopped and turned.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm following you."

"No," She warned. "You're being annoying."

"Oh, I'm sure," I say sarcastically. "I'm only homeless. Oh, and parent-less!"

She narrowed her eyes, then rolled them and started walking. I stood there in shock. She saved me, then walked away. Again, she halted and turned.

"Well?" She asked. "Are you coming?"