Miserable Weather // Open

The high pitch scream of a whistle was quickly hushed as Oriole pulled the kettle from the stove. She poured the steaming water gradually into a cup and dropped a small bag filled with herbs into it. The girl waited a few minutes to let it brew and then removed the bag, taking the cup and walking across the living room. The door softly creaked as she opened it slowly, trying to not make a lot of noise, and she slowly tip toed over to the bed. Her mother lay there, wheezing. She was so sick, and Oriole was terrified. Robine gave her daughter a weak smile and Ori did everything she could to return it, stretching her lips into a pathetic grin. She sat on the edge of the bed and held up her mother’s head, gently putting the water to her lips. The pale woman drank some, but began coughing as it drained down her pained throat. Oriole set the cup down and grabbed a rag, wiping some liquid from the woman’s’ chin. As she reached to put the cloth back, her hand was gripped in her mothers. It was slick with sweat and her fingers felt like ice, but they were still as gentle as they had always been. Robine looked up at her daughter with cloudy eyes. “Don’t worry about me,” she said, her throat croaking out the words. “I’ll be fine.” Oriole shook her head. “It’s ok Mother. I don’t mind taking care of you,” she said softly, brushing some hair from her forehead affectionately. “No,” the woman croaked. “I mean, don’t worry. When I go.” The young girls face turned dark as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

“Damn it!” the curly haired youth snarled as her ankle gave out under her weight. It was definitely sprained, hopefully not broken. If she could just get out of the puddle she was in, she might have a chance of standing. Oriole tossed her package up the road a bit so it would be out of the way. She twisted her body, trying to configure herself and eventually ended up on her hands and knees. Ori crawled forward, careful to keep her injured ankle above the ground so she wouldn’t catch it and injure it worse. As soon as she got out of the puddle she had been in, she tried to stand again. Her good leg was propped under her, and she prepared herself. “One…” she tightened her arms, ready to push off from them. “Two.” Oriole rubbed her foot into the dirt, trying to get better grip against her boot. “Three!” She pushed up with all her might, flying up onto her one leg. She waved her arms in circles, trying to keep her balance. When she realized, she wasn’t going to stay upright, she tensed, and landed right back on her ass.

Just when she was thinking she’d never get to Mrs. Roe’s, Oriole heard a voice. “Hey! Hey!” Her curls bobbed as she looked around. She caught sight of a young man waving his arm at her. What was he doing out in this freezing, slushy rain? “Everything alright?” Oriole grabbed her package and scooted up off the road onto a rise so she was out of the puddle. “Not really!” she said, cautiously. Who knows what kind of guy this was, and out in this weather? What was he up too? She couldn’t really make him out from this far away. He didn’t look too large, but she had no idea how old he was or if he was carrying some kind of weapon. She didn’t want to trust him, but she didn’t have much choice. He could be her only hope of getting to Mrs. Roe’s. She would freeze if she stayed out here through the night. Oriole decided she didn’t have much of a choice. She had to trust this stranger. “I slipped!” I yell over the wind.

“Give it to me, runt!” Three adolescents stood over a cowering boy, collecting books off of the ground. “I can’t!” the smaller boy pleaded, hoping the older boys would leave him alone. “I have to get medicine!” “I don’t care what you need to get,” said the largest boy. He had fiery red hair and fierce green eyes that looked as sharp as a sword in the Games. “Give us your money, and we’ll let you go. Alive.” The two other boys chuckled, but an expression of anger wiped their faces when a girl in a denim dress stepped between them and the young boy on the ground. The ginger smirked, crossing his arms, looking over this curly haired spitfire with her hands planted firmly on her hips. “Erod Cross! You leave him alone!” she said, dark stormy eyes glaring into his. Erod shook his head, shifting his weight haughtily. “Or what?” he taunted. Oriole grinned, standing taller. “Or I’ll clock you in the nose so hard, it’ll bleed.” The two boys with the ginger looked at each other nervously, but Erod just chuckled. “You don’t have it in ya.” “Oh yea?” Ori balled up her little fist. “Yea!” the boy nearly yelled, getting frustrated. Suddenly, Erod was on the cement, clutching his bleeding nose while his two friends dragged him away. Oriole rubbed her knuckles and turned to the boy sitting behind her, a look of shock clear across his face. “Are you ok?”

Oriole hated being in situations like these. Needing help. It was weak. She’d always taken care of people. She’d taken care of her mother when she got sicker. She’d always taken care of her sheep and protected them. She even took care of her father for a little while after mother died. Just to get him back on his feet. Being on the receiving end of help, it was strange. She didn’t like it. And she didn’t trust this man.

He wasn’t much of a man though. He couldn’t be older then her and he wasn’t very bulky. You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover though, and Ori wasn’t taking any chances. ”Oriole, right?” Stormy blue eyes darted up to the boy. She… recognized him. Did he go to her school? He looked familiar enough too, but she didn’t pay attention to anyone in school nowadays. He offered her his hand, and she hesitated. ”Here, let me help you out and maybe I can help you out.” She didn’t want to have to rely on this perfect stranger. But she didn’t have much of a choice. Staying out in this weather could prove fatal. And what would happen to her sheep if she wasn’t there? Oriole reached up and took his hand, using his help to stand, keeping her right leg off the ground. “I’m trying to get to that house,” she said and pointed toward Mrs. Roe’s house. “If you could help me there, I’d be fine.”

Her knuckles had swollen to an extraordinary size by the time she made it home. The young girl walked into her house and went straight to the back room. Oriole peeked into the door, trying to be quiet in case her mother was sleeping. She wasn’t. She was sitting at her desk, writing. She looked so beautiful to the child. The light from the window gleamed off of her flowing golden hair, nothing like her own dirty mess of curls. Oriole delicately stepped into the room and her mother looked up, a bright smile on her face. The smile quickly turned to a look of concern when she noticed her daughters’ hand. “What happened to you hand?” Robine asked. The girl walked over to her mother and raised her hand, allowing Robine to inspect it. “Erod Cross,” she said and made a face like the name tasted bad coming from her mouth. “He and his goons were picking on some kid. I warned him I would punch him if he didn’t stop!” “Oriole Glade Cordero! You know better then to hit people!” her mother scolded. Oriole looked at her feet, feeling like she’d let her mother down. Robine sighed and lifted her daughters’ chin up. “I just don’t want you to become something you’re not. Don’t hit people unless you really have too, alright?” The curly haired girl sighed and nodded.

Pain is a tricky thing. It could cloud a persons mind. Turn them into monsters or into weaklings. Pain affects everyone differently, but it doesn’t discriminate against the old or young, weak or strong. Oriole was never much affected by pain. Sure it was annoying, but she was strong willed and she could keep it hidden. But this. This hurt. Her ankle was screaming. She was sure it wasn’t broken, she could still wiggle her toes and move her ankle slightly, but it was painful. It felt like when she had broken her hand all those years ago. Then her mother had taught her how to take care of it, and she was sure she could wrap her ankle just as soon as she reached Mrs. Roe.

The teenager pulled Oriole’s arm around his shoulders, wrapping his other arm around her waist. No one had ever held her that way, not since she’d grown distant from her father and her mother had died. The touch felt… strange. Almost alien. A bright red colored the girls cheeks, but they were already red from cold, so she doubted he’d notice. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. It would have been much easier to do while you were suck in the mud.” Oriole looked up at his face, a smile stretched across it. “That’s nice to know,” she said dully, limping forward slowly, leaning a good amount of her weight onto his shoulder. “Besides… I kind of owe you one.” The woman looked at him curiously. “Owe me? Why? What did I do?”

“Erod Cross is an asshole who thinks he can push people around just because he’s strong.” I wince as my ankle slips slightly in the mud. Damn it! Why did I have to be such an imbalanced klutz? Oh well, not much I could do about it now. At least this guy came along. Could’ve been worse. It could have been Erod Cross.

“I hate people like that. They think they can just walk all over you because they’re higher on the social ladder,” I say, mostly talking to myself, trying to forget the pain. “Just because they don’t have to work as hard to survive and they have successful parents. I’m not going to let some jerk like Erod push me around. Or anyone else if I can help it.”

It feels like the snow was soaking right into my bones. My clothes are now thoroughly soaked and I feel bad because I don’t want to lean too much weight onto this guy. The road is treacherous, and it wouldn’t do either of us any good if he falls and hurts himself. I start to shiver as the wet snow drenches my hair. I instinctively lean farther into my rescuer, trying to gain some heat. The storm was getting worse by the moment, and she was incredibly relieved when they reached Mrs. Roe’s doorstep.

“You must be tougher than you look.” “You have no idea,” I say and almost smile. It’s been so long since I’ve just hung out with someone my own age, I forgot how nice it could be. Maybe I should try being social at school again. I’m sure my old friends would be happy to talk to me again. No, I couldn’t. I have too much work that needs to be done. “I could take a look at the ankle for you if you want, I mean if you need it.” I look over at the teenager and sigh. “I think I’ve got it, but you should come inside. The storm is only going to get worse and Mrs. Roe would scold me if she knew you’d helped and I’d left you out in this cold.” I lean against the door, getting ready to swing it open. “She always makes cookies and tea. Maybe you could have something to warm up before you head back out. It’s the least I could do.”

ooc// just wanted to apologize for switching from third to first person. i'm experimenting. :3