I woke up and she hadn't left this time. We were both still in an odd position, and when I tried to move my entire body ached. How did we fall asleep? I felt like I would never stop crying. Like I would lie there in her arms until the end of time sobbing over everything that had happened to me over the past thirteen years. After trying and failing to move, I lifted my head just enough so I could see her face. She was awake too, and she smiled at me as I lifted my head to look at her. I smiled back. It was the least I could do.
"Can you move?"
"Sorry, I-"
"I didn't mean it like that. I was making sure you were alright."
My cheeks burned up. Was I embarrassed because I didn't get what she was saying? Was I embarrassed that I fell asleep in her arms and woke up in the same place?
"No, I can't move."
"Well I don't want to hurt you, so can I pick you up and put you on your bed?"
"Are you alright? Is your shoulder okay?"
"It hurts a bit, but you're probably worse. You haven't eaten anything good for a month, we didn't even eat last night."
That's right, we fell asleep without even touching the bag. The food might have gone bad.
I can't believe I'm worrying about food going bad. I'm still unable to believe that she used her favor with Chef Lince just so we could have a good meal together. She inched away from me and slowly put my head on the ground. I could move, but I felt horrible every time I tried. When she failed to lift me up for the second time I decided to just get myself to the bed.
"I'm sorry, I would lift you up if I could."
"It's alright."
"How are you still this heavy after not eating for a month?"
She grinned at me for what felt like the first time in a while.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Don't make me laugh after the last two days."
I started to cry again, softer this time. She wiped the tears from my eyes and pulled my hair back as she spoke in a softer tone.
"Do you even have any tears left to give me?"
"Give you?"
"Was that not what you did last night?"
"I wouldn't say giving... more like leaving behind to whoever wants them."
"Well I have them and I wanted them, so does that mean you gave them to me?"
"You wanted me to cry?"
"There you go."
"What?"
"Do I need to make you look at yourself in a mirror? I can usually tell when I'm smiling."
I couldn't, but now I knew I was. Why was she treating me like this? It felt like she was some sort of adult, like Miss Larche. That thought disgusted me. It felt like I loved an adult. Not that kind of family love where you look up to them, where you want to be like them, I felt the kind of love that should be given to someone my age, someone who knows the things that I do. I looked at her and I saw the spitting image of Miss Larche. Someone who thinks before doing anything, someone who has this power in her voice.
I didn't like that. I didn't like that I saw Miss Larche in her, I saw the same thing back when she tried to force me to be friends with those assholes who said that they were only friends with Reynold for the money. Their families aren't dirt poor. I don't see them in the orphanage. What reason do they have to just go along with everything he says? Because their parents said so?
I don't know where she got this from. I couldn't tell you how a child ever figured out how to act this way. I didn't like it. I didn't like it when adults talked down to me, when they treated me like I was someone that they had to guide through everything. They looked at my every move and found a way to criticize it, they found a way to put themselves next to me and tell me how everything I was doing was wrong and how I should just listen to them.
She must be hanging around the teachers. Maybe in her time chasing Reynold away from whatever place he wants to ruin she learned about the way that these people speak, the way that they treat each other. She acted like she was like me. She acted like we were similar because we both lost someone. She acted like her random "friend," if you could even call it that getting herself lost in the woods was some tragedy that was the same as losing your entire life and being forced to go on. She wanted to make me think that we were the same. She wanted to control me.
I knew all this, but that wasn't what was making me mad. I couldn't describe it, this feeling that something else was going on. There must be something else. I get every part of why I'm annoyed, every part of why I shouldn't trust her. I don't get why I feel like I'm about to yell at her.
"Are you alright? You've been staring at me without speaking for a while-"
"I don't think that I like this."
She paused for a second and then got off of me. She took a few steps back and leaned on the door with her arms crossed in front of her.
"Like what?"
"You acting like this. It makes me feel like a child."
"Well, you are a child. We're both kids. Did you want to feel like an adult?"
"You know what I mean."
"No, I don't."
"You just- you- it feels weird having someone my age act this way toward me."
"It feels weird to have someone care for you?"
"Sure. The way you're acting makes me feel like you're an adult and I'm a child."
"But we're both kids."
"Then why aren't you acting like a kid?"
"What does "acting like a kid" mean?"
"I don't know, crying, getting mad often, making bad decisions."
"Do you want me to act like I'm stupid?"
"I don't know!"
"Where did this come from? You were so sweet just a moment ago-"
"I said I don't know!"
She just stood there and looked at me for a few seconds. It wasn't like before. She was angry with me. I had screwed it up already. What was I mad about?
Had it really been that long since someone cared about me? Had I never lived with someone who checked up on me, who wanted to know how I was feeling? I don't think I ever have, but even knowing this didn't help. I was still mad at her. Why was I mad at her? She had gone out of her way to help me, she let me cry on her shoulder for an entire night. Why was I upset? As much as I tried to understand it, it didn't make me any less mad. I couldn't respond to her gaze, she must have been expecting me to apologize. What was she going to do now?
"You're not acting fair. Just like back then, you're not thinking about things the way you should be. Something is stopping you."
"The way I should be? What, is there a correct way to think?"
"Don't be like that."
"Be like myself?"
"I'm not going to stick around and have you mad at me for letting you be happy."
"Well thank you, your majesty."
"Stop. I don't know where this came from. I don't know why someone would ever act like this in your situation. I'm going to give you some time to think to yourself. You're distraught-"
She put her hands over her mouth after saying that last line, but she quickly returned them to their sides and continued to glare at me.
"Yeah, get out of here."
"I think I know what this is."
"I'm dying to hear."
"You can't be happy."
"Sure I can, I'm happy right now-"
"No, you're not. You can't be happy. You've convinced yourself that because you have had to suffer just to get here you need to continue to suffer. You cling to it. It's like a golden ticket that makes you special."
"Your big argument is that I enjoy suffering?"
"You don't enjoy the actual suffering, you like what comes out of it. When people bully you, when teachers treat you unfairly, when you get yelled at, you don't have to cry yourself to sleep. Instead, you can just tell yourself that it's all a normal day for you, you who has suffered so much. If you didn't tell yourself this, maybe you'd think about the mistakes that you made. Maybe you'd dislike yourself. You can't live with being happy, because it means you have to accept that you've made mistakes. You think of yourself too highly to ever do that."
She turned away from me, and I heard something slam on the floor as she walked down the hallway. I peeked my head outside my door to find the bag on the ground. She had already run down the hallway and made her way outside the orphanage.
Why did I act that way? Every single thing I've done over the past month I regret. I hate this. I hate being mad, but I can't stop. The way that I feel about her is a mystery. Is she acting like this because of me locking her out for a month? Maybe she should. I would hate someone if they did that to me, I already told her how it's a miracle that she stayed.
Why doesn't she get it? She can sit there with me for hours letting me cry with her but she can't understand why I'm mad that she's acting this way? Why did I even let her in my room to begin with? Why did I like her? What did I ever see in her?
I hate her. I hate every single thing that she's done in the time that I've been here. If it was just me, I could learn to deal with Reynold. I would ignore him, and he'd probably just go away to be mean to someone else. Even if he didn't stop, I could deal with it. Maybe I'd move to another town, and the cycle would repeat. I'd be fine with that. I had learned to deal with that.
She wanted me to stay. She wanted to ruin my plan. Sure, it wasn't nice having to move towns every few months but I'd get out of it eventually. I'd settle down and find a town that accepts me, without a noble or a horrible teacher to drive me out. I'd become an adult either way and then I'd go on to live my life. She wanted me to give that up, and for what?
She's the issue.
Maybe that shouldn't have been a nightmare.
Maybe she should've died in that forest.