Branded

I followed him, this boy. I followed him to a world I had never dreamed of. Never thought could possibly exist. He is tall, this boy with light blond hair flopping against his forehead as he runs. His bare chest and back reveal his rippling muscles as he stretches up to grip the top of the wall. He grunts with effort and then stands nimbly at the top of the brick wall. Looking down at me, he sits straddling the wall. He offers me his hand, sliding my pail hand into his. Long fingers wrapped around my forearms, he grunts, pulling me up to him, sitting me down across his lap. "Are you okay?" he asks, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. I smile. He's always taking care of me. "Where are we going?" he does not answer. He just pushes himself up to a standing position. He lifts his head to scent the air, then looks down at me, helping me to my feet. "We are almost there." He starts running again.

I follow; I follow him along the perimeter of the yard. My arms stretched wide to keep my balance atop the narrow wall. He finally stops at the back of the property. Looking towards the dark abandoned house, Cross points his long arm stretching out towards the darkness. He does not say anything. What can he say? The image before me speaks for itself. The howl that splits the cool night air is unmistakable. I never thought that anyone could be this heartless.