I miss my mother more than ever now. She was my only family, and losing her has been devastating. Escaping from Cedom was supposed to ease my pain, but it only made it worse. I feel guilty for running away and abandoning the life that my mother had worked hard to provide for us.
I was sitting on the ground, lost in thought, when I heard the sound of the gate opening behind me. My heart raced as I saw a huge, menacing man emerged from behind the gate. His size was imposing, I wouldn't be able to fight him if he tries to harm me.
My instinct is to run. I have always been a fast runner, and I hope to hell that I could outrun him if I tried.
But before I could make my escape, he grabbed me by the midriff with an iron grip. I kicked and screamed, but his grasp was unrelenting. Panic consumed me as I struggled to break free from his granite-like arms.
"Leave me alone!" I shouted, struggling to make him release me.
"Calm down, I won't hurt you," he spoke in a husky voice.
I was too afraid to listen, so I continued to scratch and fight him, my mind racing with thoughts of escape. I was too focused on trying to break free that I didn't notice his words until he growled them out again.
"Stop it! I won't hurt you! Don't make me!" His voice was stern, and I realized that he meant what he said.
Frozen in fear, I stared at his hard chiseled face. He was expressionless, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was an assassin. He was that intimidating.
To my surprise, he let me go when I stilled. I quickly stepped away from him, shaken to the core. "You're not gonna hurt me?" I asked, trying to be sure.
He nodded his head firmly. "Who are you?"
What to say? What not to say? Will he take me to the police? Will he kidnap me?
"I can see the wheels turning in that small head of yours. I want the truth, not the lie," he said.
I took a deep breath and decided to tell him my name. "I'm Anya," I whispered.
"Anya," he tasted my name on his lips. "What are you doing here? The owner of this place is angry and complaining about your continuous invasion of his privacy."
The man was not the owner of the property. Then, who was he? Is he a cop. I lifted my chin and responded, "I wasn't trespassing. I'm in front of the gate, not inside!"
"You're still on his property." he retorted, crossing his arms and giving me a flat stare.
I felt defeated. I had nowhere to go, and everything seemed too much. The loss of my mother, the constant hunger and begging for food, and now this confrontation with this man.
My lower lips wobbled and I burst into tears.
XAZIX
The girl had been staring at me with defiance just a moment ago, but suddenly her expression changed and she burst into tears. It streamed down her face, and her eyes were wide and haunted, like saucers.
"I can't stay here anymore," she said, her voice low and shaky.
I felt trapped. It wasn't my intention to make her cry. I'm not the kind of person who knows how to console others, and this situation was way out of my comfort zone. I could feel her fear, but I didn't know what to do.
So, I took hold of her shoulders, wanting to help in some way, but she recoiled from my touch, whimpering, "Please, please let me go... don't touch me, I beg of you..."
I searched her eyes, trying to understand what was going on. "Hey, calm down. I'm not here to harm you. Do you have a home? Why do you lie out here all the time? What's wrong?"
She broke down into sobs again, and I knew that I was in over my head. But despite my unease, I couldn't ignore the overwhelming urge to comfort this small, vulnerable girl with fire burning beneath the surface of her pain.
So I did the only thing I could think of: I pulled her into my embrace, holding her tightly as she cried. She flinched at first, but then she went limp in my arms, letting me comfort her.
Minutes passed before she finally pulled away and looked at me with tear-streaked cheeks. "Please, don't take me to the police station. I have nowhere to go, but I'd rather go back to Cedom than go to jail."
It dawned on me then that she thought I was a cop. "I'm not a cop, and you're not going to jail," I assured her. "Come inside, let's go in first. The sun is hot out here." As I spoke, I noticed how sun burnt her skin was.
It hit me then that she was a street urchin, and my heart ached for her. I didn't know why, but I felt such deep pity for this girl who had to roam the streets like a stray dog.