Since it was morning, we started our typical routine. It was sunny; no rain. I led us down a semi-clear path and gathered some exotic berries. I didn't know what kind they were, but they had yet to kill me so I figured they were okay. I fed Francis the majority before starting our daily walk to anywhere and everywhere.
"One day", I said, "we'll be out of here. We'll wake up in our nice, warm beds and everything will okay". I was talking more to myself, but it seemed to comfort Francis as well. I kept going; "Everything is going to be fine. Someone will save us and we'll be on our way out of here, going home". I wanted more than anything to tell her that Mommy would be with us, that we would go home and she'd be waiting for us....I knew that was never going to happen.
We walked for what felt like a good five hours and I suddenly realized we were long overdue for a rest. I set Francis on the ground near a tree, and leaned my head against the bark. That's when I heard it. The voices came rushing back out of nowhere. All in a rush, Francis was gone and I was...shot?
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