Reba
Strange People, Strange Place
The wind blew through the snowy evening. I trudged through the white blanket of snow that toppled the ground. I hugged myself, nearly frozen with fear and cold. Fear that I would have nowhere to go. This is the effects of running away, I thought. I knew I should have put on a jacket, but I didn't expect it
to get this cold in Florida, the sunshine state. Then, I passed out.
I opened my eyes and called out “Mom?” And then the memories swept over me like a wave does the sand. I glanced around and noticed that I was laying on a wooden bed with a giant leaf for a blanket. The bed was at the entrance of a cave, and the cave was on a short mountain, overlooking a huge forest.
A forest filled with sunlight and fresh air. Just then, I heard whispering voices. I could barely make out what they were saying.
“She can't possibly stay with us,” said a male's voice as bitter as a lemon.
“And why not? She's just a poor lost soul,” a female's voice jumped in.
“You can't just go around picking up lost children from the streets,” the bitter voice said.
“But, look at her! She doesn't-”
“Hush! She's awake!” the male interrupted.
“W-who is speaking? Where am I? I don't what?” I cried with a terrified look in my eyes. I heard a hustle and bustle and then there was silence. I was far too sleepy to do anything, so I just ignored it and drifted back to sleep.
“What's your name dear?” I heard a voice asked. I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was a tall elven women. Her elvish face was looking down at me with bright green eyes.
“Don't tell me you don't have a name!” she cried.
I kept my mouth shut, remembering when my mother told me to never talk to strangers. Then, I remembered how she practically forced me to run away.
“What about an age, do you have an age?
Lost in my thoughts, I almost forgot the lady was there waiting on an answer. “Reba,” I said.
“Your age is Reba? Never heard of such a number. Quite peculiar if-”
“My name is Reba. I'm thirteen,” I replied.
“Hmph,” the elf replied, upset at being interrupted once more. “Well, what a wonderful-”
“Carina!” a sharp voice called out. “I told you not to make conversation!” A short, very short if I must say, man came into view. I couldn't tell if he was a midget, dwarf, or hobbit, but he was a little on the fat side, and his hostility made him look ugly and crude.
“You know Balir, I am very tired of being interrupted!” Carina shouted, angrily.
to get this cold in Florida, the sunshine state. Then, I passed out.
I opened my eyes and called out “Mom?” And then the memories swept over me like a wave does the sand. I glanced around and noticed that I was laying on a wooden bed with a giant leaf for a blanket. The bed was at the entrance of a cave, and the cave was on a short mountain, overlooking a huge forest.
A forest filled with sunlight and fresh air. Just then, I heard whispering voices. I could barely make out what they were saying.
“She can't possibly stay with us,” said a male's voice as bitter as a lemon.
“And why not? She's just a poor lost soul,” a female's voice jumped in.
“You can't just go around picking up lost children from the streets,” the bitter voice said.
“But, look at her! She doesn't-”
“Hush! She's awake!” the male interrupted.
“W-who is speaking? Where am I? I don't what?” I cried with a terrified look in my eyes. I heard a hustle and bustle and then there was silence. I was far too sleepy to do anything, so I just ignored it and drifted back to sleep.
“What's your name dear?” I heard a voice asked. I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was a tall elven women. Her elvish face was looking down at me with bright green eyes.
“Don't tell me you don't have a name!” she cried.
I kept my mouth shut, remembering when my mother told me to never talk to strangers. Then, I remembered how she practically forced me to run away.
“What about an age, do you have an age?
Lost in my thoughts, I almost forgot the lady was there waiting on an answer. “Reba,” I said.
“Your age is Reba? Never heard of such a number. Quite peculiar if-”
“My name is Reba. I'm thirteen,” I replied.
“Hmph,” the elf replied, upset at being interrupted once more. “Well, what a wonderful-”
“Carina!” a sharp voice called out. “I told you not to make conversation!” A short, very short if I must say, man came into view. I couldn't tell if he was a midget, dwarf, or hobbit, but he was a little on the fat side, and his hostility made him look ugly and crude.
“You know Balir, I am very tired of being interrupted!” Carina shouted, angrily.