Ethereal

Chapter 11: Stowaway

           My eyes shot open just as the truck hit a nasty bump, throwing me and several of the lighter crates several inches into the air. I landed on my ribs, causing a hiss to escape through my lips. Pain erupted across my side as I bit my tongue to hold back a whimper, trying to rub the tenderness out of my side as I sat up and looked around. The back of the truck was pitch black. Not even a sliver of light peeked from beneath the crack of the back door.

            A chill crept over my skin, and if I could see anything, I'm sure my breath would be a cloud of fog around me. The sun must have set while I had been sleeping.

            The desire to roam around the truck and peer into the sealed crates swept over me. Seeing the officials handing out emergency supplies filled me with the hope that I could find an extra blanket or a flashlight I could use. Only with my luck I knew that I'd most likely trip and hit my head on the corner of something sharp, and I'd have to deal with a head wound on top of everything else going on. Even with the bitter chill threatening to make my teeth chatter, I would have to wait until morning to investigate my surroundings.

           Suddenly remembering that I still had my bag, I groped around in the dark until my fingers brushed against one of the metal clasps. Pulling the bag onto my lap, I rifled through its contents until I felt the rough fabric of the woolen blanket. I pulled it to the surface, ignoring the crash of my other possessions as they all fell against each other at the bottom of my bag.

          I smiled as I unfolded the wool blanket, wrapping it around my shoulders before settling back onto the ground. My body and mind were spent, the physical and emotional havoc of the past twenty-four hours had been one of the worst experiences I'd ever encountered. For whatever reason, my brain was slow to process everything that had happened. Maybe it was the fatigue, after spending most of the day running in the heat. Or maybe I was in denial of everything that had happened and my mind opted to ignore the reality of my situation to spare me the trauma. Whatever the reason may be, my body and mind were still.

            I thought of the possibility of finding my family again. They were all that I had left in this world, and I had no idea if they were still alive. What happens if I find out they're not in the Camp as I was led to believe? Where would I go then? I tried my best not to think too hard about it.

          With the blanket keeping me warm and despite my muscles aching fiercely, my fatigue lulled me into a deep sleep, with my head resting against my bag on the floor.

          My dreams themselves gave me no rest. Old memories that I had repressed during my stay at the orphanage were slowly beginning to surface once again. The blistering heat of summer peeling the skin off my face and back, my blistered fingers trying to rub the dirt out from under my nails, the Head Matron's shadow lurking over every corner waiting to deal out punishments.

           All thoughts and dreams shifted to images of the burning orphanage and the smiling man staring as everyone inside slowly turned to ash. I could feel my mind turning into tinder as the memories began to burn me from the inside out. My throat was singed, and my tongue tasted of ash.

          My family's screams mixed with the screams of the girls at the orphanage, blurring into one deafening roar as the groaning of the truck's metal gears and wheels sounded like the orphanage's walls tumbling to the ground. Even the hard floor under me would bend and creak at times, setting my nerves on edge as my mind whispered to me that there was someone else in the truck bed with me, someone slinking amongst the shadows, watching me, waiting to strike me down and kill me.

          I was relieved when a bright ray of sunlight poured through the open cracks of the truck's back door, telling me I had made it through the night, and I could finally move from my spot against the wall.