(OPEN) Everyone Get's Scared... Right?

I'm shaking like a leaf, using my elebows to prop me up, lightly dusted in the dirt I stirred up when I fell. I watch him with wide brown eyes as he picks up the rest of the birdseed and puts it in my bag. A coulpe of times, I try to stand, only to trip on my own feet and go plunging down again.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. Hi, I'm Johnathan."

Still not trusting him, I watch his arm. Years of experience taught me how to tell when the arm is about to strike. So that I'm ready for it, or, if it's someone from school, I can dodge it.

I see the muscles in his shoulder tense, and I scramble back a few feet. But no, the hand is just staying there. Not doing anything.

Not able to think of anything else to do, I finally manage to steadily stand up. I hide my face behind a curtain of red hair that I let hang in my face, and move a hand across the bruise on my shoulder, trying to calm the dull pain.

"I-I'm sorry," I say, still trembling.

I do my best to stay a good distance away from him as I brush myself off.

Unsure of what to do next, I consider getting the sack of birdseed, just to be polite. But what else? I'm not exactly the social person, not to mention I'm absolutely terrified.

And I'll be late. I once again rub the bruise, knowing what awaits me when I get home. Just the thought of it makes tears press at the back of my eyes, but I force them to stay in.

I glance at the bag, then back at him, and finally raise a skinny arm to point at it. "Th-the birds w-won't eat that."

The birds! I think of them, waiting for me back at home. What was it I told father? As soon as I got home, I was going to take Athena out for a training session!

Relief floods into me, knowing there's no way he could tell I was late if he thinks I'm in the woods training the falcon. The falcons wouldn't eat the birdseed, of course, but it wasn't for them. I was planning on going into the woods early this morning to talk to some of the gentler birds.

When I was younger, I would've been afraid to go. I would've been scared they'd make fun of me. But now, I don't care.

They already know I'm crazy, so what's the point in trying to hide it?

((OOC: It's fine!))

I hesitate. Didn't someone once tell me never to go somewhere alone with a stranger? I think I learned that in school but all I can pull up is a man's wrinkled face and sunken eyes and something about kidnapping. I didn't listen much more than that, though.

"You know, killing animals isn't th-that bad. We have to to survive. And, um, a-actually," I say quietly. "I was going to train a bird."

I bite my bottom lips hard. Don't say it, don't say it, don't- ouch! I relax my jaw and run my tongue over the torn flesh and blood. Ugh.

And then, before I can stop them, the words leave my lips. "You can come watch if you want."

If only words were things you could pull back out of the air. Why did I say that? Stupid! I'm not social. People... they don't want to watch a silly little girl train a falcon. They want to hit, and hit hard. Why else would I keep to myself?

But of course, you can't take backk words once they've left your mouth. It's impossible. That's why you're supposed to think before you say them.

So what do you do, then? Laugh, maybe, and pretend it's a joke? That could work. That would work. Would it?

Or maybe, I could just walk away. That would work too, but it would be kind of rude.

So instead, I just stand there, wrapping my arms around myself as the wind blows my bright sunset hair away from my face. I don't care anymore, though. If he's going to hit me, let him, and then I can get back home and train the birds. They could help me forget.

My finger runs over the goosebumps on my arm, and the chain of the necklace is like ice against my skin.

It's getting cold. Hopefully, he'll just say no quickly and I can leave.

But then again, things haven't been going the way I've hoped all day.