Luke

I woke up the next morning feeling far warmer and far more refreshed than I had in days. My clothes were still damp from having been out in the rain, but I was comfortable under a small mountain of blankets. There was a roof over my head and walls around me. The mattress underneath me was the most comfortable thing I’d been on in a long time.
I sat up and ran my hand through my hair, trying to clear my mind, remind myself of where I was and what I was doing. Yes, I’d come in here last night, and that boy… That boy had offered to let me stay here. This was his room. His blankets.
I was indebted to him. I hated that feeling, because who knew what he’d want from me? I couldn’t trust him. Just because he’d let me stay the night couldn’t mean I’d stick around. Though I had no belongings, really, had he intended to take whatever I had?
That was the thing with humans: Nothing was ever free. Everything came with a price. A reward. Expectations. And in no way did I want to participate in that.
I could slip out now, maybe. Take my chances and leave, having only robbed him of his bed for a night and a few pieces of candy. No more, no less, and I could live with that kind of guilt.
I got up slowly, looking down at myself. I looked a mess. The holes in my clothes by this point were so large that I was fairly certain they didn’t truly pass as clothes anymore. Maybe I’d steal a coat while I was here. I quietly rummaged the room, finding several blankets and a couple of shirts, but no coat. A second shirt would work just fine, so I pulled off the one I was wearing to put on a new one. It was too large for me, but it was dry and whole, which was all that mattered at this point.
I also kept a blanket. He had plenty, being here all by himself.
Having decided that I could leave now, I slipped silently out the door, walking back the way I was pretty sure I’d come last night. It looked about right from what my feet had remembered of the tables and chairs. I hadn’t been paying attention last night after Luke had turned on the light. This was the main room, and most of the furniture therein was broken or in such bad shape that I wouldn’t trust myself to sit on it. The door was off to my left a little.
I crossed the room, fingers on the doorknob.
“Leaving so soon?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin, but didn’t give him any response.
“You told me you’d be willing to talk. And then you could leave,” he continued.
My hand lowered from the doorknob and it was only then that I realized how I must’ve seemed to him. I’d barely spoken a word to him, and I had in fact promised that I’d talk to him. But here I was, wearing his clothing and carrying his blanket… My eyes trained on the ground, I took a couple steps back.
“What is there to talk about?” I questioned.
“Oh, there’s plenty. An infinite amount of things, actually. But I’d like to start with what you’re doing out here on your own.”
“I ran away,” I stated simply.
“Oh really? And how is that working for you?”
I didn’t dignify that with a response. I’d agreed to talk, not to be patronized.
“Who are you running from?” he asked after he saw I wasn’t going to respond.
“My family.” He nodded.
“Yeah. Me too.” I looked up as his tone changed with those words. His gaze was distant, thoughtful. All at once, he shook his head slightly and his eyes cleared. “Bread?” he offered, holding out a slice to me. There were bits of mold on one side which he tore off before giving it to me. I took it without protest, eating it in the five seconds that followed.
“How long have you been on your own?”
“Couple months.”
“How old are you?”
“Eleven.”
The questioning went on like this for an hour, while he somehow managed to learn everything about me but nothing about where I came from. Maybe he knew I wouldn’t answer, so didn’t bother asking. Or maybe deep down, he’d already figured it out. So while he’d learned that I could read fairly well and do math extraordinarily well, he had no clue what school I’d gone to or any friends I’d had.
I could’ve probably gotten up to leave, too, but had chosen not to. Maybe it was because he gave me a bit more bread every few minutes, or maybe it was something deeper, the instinctual need for human contact. Maybe I stayed because they were harmless questions, and I wasn’t too eager to venture back out into the harmful world.
He’d been silent for a couple of minutes, and eventually he shrugged.
“I can’t think of anything else to ask you. Do you still want to leave?”
“I don’t know,” I mumbled.
“You could stay, you know. Even if it’s just for another day.”
“I can’t,” I finally said. “I have to leave.”
“Very well. But can I come with you?”
“And leave all this behind? Why?”
“I could ask the same of you.”