Uncle Nik only agreed to take me in because he had no choice, and he made sure I knew every single day how unhappy he was at this situation. Unfortunately, with no other family, I had no option but to stay.
For years, I wanted my own space, away from him. But lodgings are expensive. Just when I think I have saved enough, the cost rises again or my savings end up elsewhere. Over the years, Nia has asked me to move in. To get away from Nik. But I never wanted to become a burden to them, like Nik told me I was. I didn’t want to make them regret helping me.
So, I stayed with Nik, avoiding him when I could.
After Andi left, I felt like it was my responsibility to move in. Besides, this way I could help with whatever arose and keep an eye on them with the guards nearby, I couldn’t do that in Nik’s broken-down flat.
Uncle, only by name. He was never caring. He would rather ignore my existence than take the time to teach me.
Well, teach me without fists involved.
Uncle Nik has no trade, other than being an expert drunkard. If it weren’t for Andi and her family, my fate would have been the same.
I first met Andi in the woods. I was maybe ten years old, a thin and grimy little creature who eyed everyone with distrust. Uncle Nik had been drinking again, and to avoid another beating, I had slipped into the woods before he arrived back from the tavern.
I would spend my days hiding, climbing trees, and building dens, living off the berries I found in the thicket.I enjoyed the quiet of the woods, listening to the sounds of the animals, with no one to yell at me or remind me how useless I was.
Frequently, I would camp overnight, and no one ever came looking for me, not that I minded. The animals paid me no heed, since they were so used to my scent, it was like I was one of them.I’d spent most months there, until winter, that is, then I had to find a hiding place in Uncle Nik’s and keep well out of sight.
One wet afternoon, while I was fixing the roof of my den, a young girl snuck up on me. I’d jumped half out of my skin and fled into the safety of my lair. Peering between branches and leaves, I inspected her. She was dainty, couldn’t have been much younger than me, with the blackest hair I had ever seen. But her strange eyes creeped me out, with one being the colour of chocolate and the other as red as blood.
I was terrified.
“You don’t have to hide,” she called to me. “Is this your den? It’s really cool. I’m Andi, what’s your name?”
I peeked my head around the door of my den, watching her closely, watching for any sudden movements. “Wyatt,” I whispered.
She furrowed her eyebrows, leaning forward, she held a hand to her ear. “Did you say something? If you did it was so quiet, a mouse wouldn’t be able to hear you.” She placed her hands on her hips, but her face held a gentle smile.
I took a deep breath. “Wyatt,” I forced out.
“Hi Wyatt. Are you from town, or do you live near the woods like me?” She walked right up to me. I hadn’t spoken to any children before. Never attended the schoolhouse, nor spoke to many grownups either, except the barman at the tavern when my uncle could no longer walk home.
“I uh—I live in town, with my uncle,” I nervously answered.
“Doesn’t he wonder where you are? My parents would go nuts if I weren’t home before it got too dark.”
I shuffled my feet on the dirt, kicking stones. “No, he doesn’t really care.”
“Wow, you’re so lucky, I get in trouble for everything. That’s so great, you get to go where you want, when you want.”
“Not really, I only get in trouble when my uncle finds me.”
I could see Andi was well cared for, her clothes were clean and made to fit her. She was wearing a sparkly necklace, which must have cost a lot. Her hair was clean and shiny, combed into a neat braid that sat on her shoulder. Her face and hands were spotless, no dirt under her fingernails, unlike my raggedy appearance.
I felt very insecure next to her. The only clothes I had were Uncle Nik’s old ones, stained with beer and filled with holes. Iwas covered in dirt from sleeping outside. I tried to straighten myself out, but it didn’t help.
Andi watched closely and gave me a small smile.
“Are you hungry?”
“I’m fine,” I said with my head pointed at the ground. My stomach betrayed me, letting out an enormous roar. I snapped my head up, hoping she didn’t hear it, but Andi tilted her head, hands on her hips again, and her eyebrows raised.
Lowering my head in shame, I admit, “Okay, maybe I’m a little hungry.”
“Follow me,” she announced, walking away from me.
I stared after her for a minute before I followed, unsure of what awaited me at the end of her path—mocking, or jeering. I was used to that, but to voluntarily walk into it? No thanks.