I awoke to the water falling on my head. Rain, of course Kurt, good going. I was angry at myself for not even giving second wind to any thought of precipitation. After all, look where we're at. No time to fret though, Francis was getting soaked. I grabbed her up in my arms and made a mad dash for shelter. But where is one to go in such a place? There was no shelter, there was no anything!
I turned my body to face a tree and maneuvered my torso over Francis to keep her dry. This was my fault. I'm the one who had to go out and play rockstar every night, and thanks to this life of mine, my own flesh and blood had to suffer. We were in the middle of God-knows-where, huddled against shrubbery to stay safe from the elements. It wasn't right, and it was all because of me.
My sanity lasted until around Tuesday. We had spent almost a week in this God-forsaken land, and I would have all but forgotten the date if I hadn't spent the better part of last night thinking about it. Francis had almost immediately fallen asleep like she usually did (after walking all day to any sign of life, it's typical of a small child to be exhausted), yet I had been wide awake all throughout the nights. I don't know why it took so long for me to realize what possible dangers we could be in, but around the second night, when the noises started, it hit me that it was imminent. The noises, like a hushed whisper, had escaped Francis; she didn't hear them...but they were there, weren't they?
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