It was late before the house was
quiet. I knew the servants went to bed late but this was ridiculous. It was
twelve thirty in the morning and the last one had finally walked up the back
stairs to their room. Truscott watched me from the window seat as I threw a
blanket into my backpack. I opened the wardrobe and then slammed it in disgust.
There were no clothes that I could take with me.
“Come on, Truscott, we’re going.” I
tossed my backpack over my shoulder. “We need to go home.”
The dog stood up and wagged his
tail. He knew what I wanted. So with a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and
marched out the door. The thick carpet muffled the noise of my combat boots.
The house was eerily quiet as I
walked down the main staircase. No matter what time of day it was I always met
someone somewhere doing something. The eyes of the hall portraits followed me
but I paid them no mind. They couldn’t tell me what to do. I was going home,
back to where I belonged. I couldn’t change the world and neither could Dante.
And making me his girl was not going to change anything either.
“Stuff you and your dream, Dante.
I’m going home,” I said just before I slipped out the front door.
Truscott gave a little woof and
bounded towards the front gate. I followed at a rather slower pace. Part of me
wanted to stay in this house, in this place where they pampered me. Here I
didn’t have to hunt for my every meal or look over my shoulder every time I
moved.
But that was part of the problem. I
was getting soft. It was time I went back to being the tough girl that spent
her days on the street.
Truscott barked from the other side
of the fence. I took one last look at the house and then began to climb the
fence. I dropped my backpack down from the top and then slithered down the
gate. Truscott wagged his tail as I landed lightly beside him.
Picking up my bag I began to walk
down the street. I felt lighter, more free with each step I took. I was going
home.
In the darkness nothing looked familiar
and I took it slow. But my heart was pulling me in one direction. At least I
thought it was. It was like I could hear a call from somewhere far away. The
words were indiscernible, but I knew what they were.
‘Come home, Crystal. We are waiting
for you. Come back to the people you love.’
“I’m coming. Don’t give up,” I
whispered. “I haven’t forgotten you.”
Truscott looked up at me and then trotted
off down a side street. I followed him, trusting him to bring me back to
familiar grounds. I hadn’t been off of the Brooke’s property for over a month
and the last half of my trip was hazy in my mind. I couldn’t remember where I
had turned or street names. I had been following some music, a song that no one
had been playing. Now I was going on instinct alone.
The sun was beginning to rise when
I finally decided to stop for the day. I laughed when I saw the building I had
stopped in front of. It was the same one that had started my troubles. Either I
had been going in circles or I had run for a very long time after I had been
shot.
“Come on, Truscott. We’ll stay here
for tonight.” I took a step into the building and stopped, listening. I didn’t
want a repeat of last time. But the only noise I heard was the cooing of
pigeons and the scurry of some animal as it ran to hide from me.
Truscott sniffed the air and walked
farther into the front room. I followed behind, an arrow on my bow. I would be
ready for anything this time.
It only took me a few minutes to
scout out the place. There was no one in the building. I kicked some leaves and
animal scat out of a corner and settled down to sleep. I pulled out the water
and a loaf of bread I had scoffed from the kitchen. Tearing off a chunk I bit
into it. That was one thing I was going to miss. Martha’s bread and her
biscuits and her meat and... well I would miss her cooking.
I snuggled down next to Truscott. “We’ll
be okay, boy. We’re going home.”
I could already feel Macy’s arms
around me, hear Robyn’s chatter and smell Quincy’s cooking. The only thing that
would be missing was Grandpa’s hearty laugh. Deep inside me, I knew he was
gone. They wouldn’t have to tell me.
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