In the loud chaos that rings throughout my house, I feel my mind fall distant as I watch the world around me crumble away. I wish I had known that night was the last I’d ever get to sit at that dinner table with my mother. The last night I’d have a bed of my own or a bed at all. The last night I would get to be a kid.
“I remember you telling me your father was missing,” Alexander says to me. “I hadn’t realized he left.”
I nod my head. “I hate talking about him,” I say harshly. “He’s the reason we were ever thrown in prison in the first place.” When I say this I realize he is also the reason my mother and brother are dead. I hadn’t thought my hatred for him could grow anymore, but it does. I still have the photograph from that night in my pocket and I feel as though it burns against me.
“So what all happened after you realized my family had been taken in as prisoners? You were in a similar situation except it was your mother that left you,” I ask, turning the conversation off of me. I realize my comment about his mother leaving may have been a bit harsh but he doesn’t seem to think so. I vaguely remember her just telling them she wanted to live a different life and left. At least he got some explanation and she actually said goodbye. I don’t need to explain the rest of what I’ve been through. He isn’t interested in hearing what it was like living in a cell for seven years.
“Well, like I said, after your family was taken in my father went to work for King Renon. I went with him since my mother was gone, and we worked together. We got to live in the castle,” Alexander says as though it is something to brag about. “Although I didn’t work much, I mostly explored the castle, but of course I had my boundaries. Like no going down into the prison, and no going into the treasury,” he pauses and glances to me. “I wanted to walk down and talk to you. To let you know you weren’t alone. I wanted to make sure you were okay, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have people doing the checking on you for me. Alyssa got you those books, right?”
Silence settles between us and I stop walking. “You got me those books?” I ask and scan his face. Those books kept my brother and me sane. Alexander has been trying to help me all this time, but I had no idea.
“Yeah, I found out Alyssa was in charge of taking meals down to the prison and I’d ask about you and your family all the time.” Alexander drops his head and his cheeks flush a light pink. If I’m being honest I haven’t thought about anyone from the outside of the cell for seven years, but he has been doing the exact opposite. Alexander begins walking again and I follow. “She told me you had wanted books to help pass the time so I collected some and had her sneak them down to you.”
Alexander continues to talk about living in the castle and how he still attended school until his father disappeared. He has definitely lived a much more luxurious life than I have. He always had enough food to eat, a bed of his own to sleep in, and a constant feeling of safety. When I imagined escaping the prison hiding in the woods with a former guard was not what I was expecting.
As Alexander tells his stories I catch myself scanning him, and I realize I’m going to need to decide if staying with him is my best option. I want to trust him, but he is the spitting image of the kind of people I hate. The ones who get everything handed to them, and have never had to worry for their lives. As much as my mind tries to place Alexander in that role though, some things stick out to me. Like the books he got me, the effort he put into knowing I was okay, and the way he talked about my mother’s death. My brain sees him as a threat, as the enemy, a guard at the castle, but my heart feels he is a friend. The question is, which one is right?
Chapter 4
The sun is starting to set and we need to find a place to stop for the night. Up ahead I see a formation of large boulders. As we get closer I notice that there is an opening, creating a small cave.
“We’ll stop here for the night,” Alexander says, examining the makeshift shelter.
“Good, looks sturdy enough and right next to a creek. That’ll be good for food and water,” I list off, trying not to be completely useless to him.
“We can eat these berries too,” he says and points to a bush full of colorful yellow berries. They are common in our town. Almost everyone can afford them, but my family was lucky enough to have bushes of them in our backyard. We call them ray berries. Not only because of their bright color but also because of the warm juices inside. “We will start our fire once it is completely dark. That way the smoke is as hidden as possible. No one will be close enough to us to see its flames either. We’ll put out the fire at the first signs of daylight, and cook any fish we catch in the morning on the hot coals. Okay?” he asks bluntly. I agree, feeling just as useless as I
