Stormed.
 

Howling winds battered through the shattered window. Glass hung from the old steel frame, bent and weathered from the storm. The whole wall seemed to cave in, dented in the middle and yet somehow still standing firm. A few bricks had fell loose, the dusts scattering across the rich mahogany floor, tossed around by the winds that forced themselves through the cracks in the window and the ceiling. The roof was dipped, part of it completely missing at the side of the room, allowing clear sight of the flawless night sky, stars blinking down and moonlight washing across the far wall. The single rocking chair in the corner of the room was completely empty, and yet it rocked back and forth, teased by the squalls that danced about the room.

The weather seemed to mock the scrawny woman cowering in the corner. Her long red hair was covered in dust and debris, hanging tangled about her bare boney shoulders. Her clothing too was almost completely greyed by the rubble, a once pretty green velvet dress. Whimpering, the woman finally stood, clumsy on her own two feet. Bare feet, which flinched every time she stood on a glass shard or fallen tile, though she didn't seem to bat an eye to the pain. Crossing the room slowly, her movements almost puppet-like, the woman sat herself down in the rocking chair, staring through the cracked and broken glass at the outside world. The mist was beginning to thin around the tree tops and it looked as if morning would perhaps break soon. It had seemed like so long since she had seen the sunlight.

As she sat, she allowed the wind to rock the chair, closing her eyes a little, small arms cradling herself as she allowed herself to sleep for a little while.

Yes, just a little while.

Struggling to stay balanced, a man on a motorcycle battled the fierce wind, but knew he would eventually have to stop. His bike was suddenly toppled by a very strong gust of wind, and the man was dragged along the road, sparks flying everywhere. He grimaced in agony and watched the rain begin to let up. He soon pulled himself up and looked around. Spotting a nearby house that had been halfway demolished, he pulled off his helmet and sprinted towards it, his steel-toed boots clanking on the ground. He saw a frail woman sitting in a chair, appearing to be asleep. He had green eyes, shot black hair, pale white skin, and black, leather, clothing. His body rippled with muscle as he took off his jcket and draped it around the woman in an effort to warm her. Under his jacket was a 9mm pistol, a lighter, and a pack of cigarettes.

He picked the woman up and laid her on a patch of grass to examine her injuries, being carful not to wake her. He rolled his motorcycle over to her and looked foe a med kit. Unable to find one, he sighed and pulled out a pair of tweezers and pliers and calmly removed the glass in her feet. The man had no bandages, so he applied pressure to the wound to try to stop the bleeding. The woman suddenly stirred. "Sleep." he whispered, and he turned back to his food.

Sleep.

So many years of sleep had this woman endured. Alone in her house with barely two rooms. Now the house didn't even exist. It was her getaway. Her place away from the bustle of the city, yet hidden just outside in the green of the forest surrounding it. She hadn't dared to venture outside of her home during the storm, fearing that she'd get swept away within the fierce winds. Hoping that the small structure would hold away the bitter weather, but she was wrong.

Waking up, upon the grass, her eyes fluttered open slowly, bright blue eyes staring straight up at the morning sky. Morning, how she had missed the sunlight. She rubbed her tired eyes with her shaking hands and struggled to sit up. How had she managed to get outside? Baffled, she finally gained her vision and noticed the man sitting down near her. She held her hands out, as if to keep him away, and scuttled backward a little, her legs pushing her as she was still sitting down.

"O-ney, o-ney ishkya mento noko..." she quivered, biting her bottom lip as she stumbled to stand, her weak legs not allowing her movement and making her fall back down to the sodden grass. She wiped her long hair back from her mud covered face and kept her sight on the man before her.

Why is he here? What does he want? Her mind spun, confused and somewhat alert even though she had only recently woken.

The man stood up and looked at the woman on the ground. "I don't want to hurt you. Trust me." He stepped towards her but stumbled. He pointed to his jacket, which was still on the woman. You should keep that on. I'm trying to help you." He held out a bowl of soup to her.

Whoever this woman is, she's very attentive, he oberved. I may as well wait until someone better trained than I comes. They will be able to assist her, and I can get out of here. "Are you all right, ma'am?" he inquired. "Is there something I can do for you?" If she doesn't need my help, I'd best be off.

Stray droplets of water falling from the drenched trees spattered on a pair of sunglasses. The man who wore them sighed and removed them, revealing his blue-grey eyes, wiping the shades on his dark blue t-shirt. He scratched the back of his neck, where a tag emlazoned with the logo of the manufacturer had come out and was irritating him. There always had to be some tag or another. Irritants.

He replaced his sunglasses and continued his walk through the sunlit trickle that was the morning forest. He knew he was nearing where her house was, and his heart seemed to speed up with each step, racing faster as he closed in on his destination. He hadn't seen the place in years and years, and wondered if he would find it as he left it, or if it would be decrepit, destroyed, completely missing.

His hiking boots kept away the sodden plants at ankle level, as did his heavy bluejeans, which were now soaked up to the knee. It made for a considerable amount of chafing, but it would do no good to try and remedy the situation anyways. There was just too much water around to worry about being dry. Besides, let nothing get in the way. Got to get there. Got to make it.

He came to a clearing and his heart stopped for a moment. There was nothing there. No house, no people, nothing but a field, trees, a road. Dead, gone, forever vanished, his worst fear. Or had he simply missed? He must have, there wasn't even evidence of a foundation. Brushing a hand back through his thick brown hair he sighed again, annoyed with himself for jumping to conclusions. Too jumpy.

He hurried across the clearing and road, and disappeared into the forest again on the other side, continuing his trek towards what he hoped would be the woman he'd lost so long ago.

Out of the treeline came a man. He walked out from the forrest and on to the road. Finally...A road. It was still raining. It was the time of sunrise...The man stood still watching the sun rise...Oh, how did he like the sunrise...It was just beatifull. He could have stayed there for hours, but there wasn't time. Need to get back to walking...

He walked...

And he walked...

And he reached...nothing...A small clearing once in a while...No civilisation...Good... He thought to him self. This man did not specially dispise other people or the civilisation, he just...Liked being alone...He continued forward once again finding nothing...Wait... He saw a small house in the middle of a clearing...There seemed to be people there... I have to help if there's something wrong. He thought thou he had liked it better if he could have continued alone, but he still had to help...He was still a human. He straightened up lifting his backpack and walking towards the demolished little house..."Hello...?"

The soup being held out to her smelled good, but she wouldn't take it. She just sat there, her blue eyes staring almost right through the man, contemplating a way out of the situation. She wanted him to just leave, but knowing human nature, this man was probably too curious to dissappear without being told. How would she tell him? Her English wasn't that good and in her current condition, any kind soul would have wanted to mother her back to health. And that was the last thing she wanted.

Hello...?

Another. Scuttling backward some more, the woman propped herself up against the trunk of a tree, using it as an aid to get to her feet. It was then that she felt the pain. Her feet blistered, splintered and cut - she just whined a little and held onto the tree, looking at both men each in turn and then to her house. No longer could she hide there, it was nothing more than a wreck to be torn down. Just like her other home, so long ago.

"...You go. You go." she said slowly, mouthing out her words as if urging them to understand her urgency in being rid of them. Her eyes darted about, quivering in their sockets. Knees buckling slightly, she held tightly onto the tree, making sure she didn't get too close to these men. Maybe they wanted to take something else from her, just like they took her home land many years before.

...You go. You go.

Thats what he heard as he walked over to the destroyed house. He saw a man and a woman. The woman was holdig tight to a tree as being afraid to be taken away. The man standing next to the woman had apparently given his jacket to the woman for that jacket was way too big for a little woman like this one.

"Can I...Is there something I can do...?"

He said looking both at the other man and the woman, not beeing sure if he was gonna get a sane answer. The woman didn't seem to be talking good english...Great. Language barrier...

A set of footprints forged a path ahead through the sparkling morning, easily traceable. It was a simple matter to adjust and follow it, as it headed the same way. Heavy dents in the grass below marked the progress of the unnamed individual when there were no other signs with which to follow.

Rubbing his arms slightly, he kept walking down the recently made trail, wishing he'd had the foresight to bring a jacket. Water kept dripping on his arms and making him shiver. A t-shirt probably wasn't adequate protection. Unfortunate. But he hadn't had time to think or worry about himself when he heard the storm was coming. He knew what this one had meant. He knew that he had to go. He had to find her. Hopefully where he'd left her.

A clearing. A house in shambles. Rubble strewn about it's foundation, as it crumbled more and more each day. This time it had finally gone. He stayed at the edge of the clearing, making sure his presence went undetected, and observed the surroundings.

Immediately he noticed two men a short distance away from a woman. Her. One man was clearly a motorcyclist, and the other was most likely the person who had made the trail he followed directly here. Wonder what he was doing in the forest, he mused. Curious.

Feeling suddenly hesitant, he lingered on the edge of the forest, unwilling to show himself, relying on some wish that she would merely notice him and come to him instead. Ridiculous and surreal, but he had no desire to be in a crowd situation. It would never work like that. They might end up feeling alienated. They might get angry or violent. It was always like that when people didn't understand.

It didn't matter. Had to go out there. Had to see her. He untangled himself from the trees and walked forward, pitched, stumbled, in an oddly robotic fashion. It felt like he had been programmed. His heart pounded as he neared the woman and the two men, raced forwards in sharp contrast to his own forward momentum. And then he was there, stood in front of her, looking down. Returned.

I am home..

Jason jumped awake, only to be restrained by his seatbelt. Everything was blurry; he couldn't see anything, but he could make out the broken glass. Why couldn't he see anything? He wasn't wearing his glasses, of course. Wait, where were his glasses? Why wasn't he wearing them? Where was he? The thought "broken glass" passes through his mind. He tried to move, but the seatbelt held tight. Red. He unbuckled it. That mean he was in a car. Well, of course he was, he had been driving for a seminar on ancient Greek. Broken glass again went in and out of his mind. Red. Why wasn't he at the seminar? Was there traffic? No. Why did everything seem tilted? It felt like he was sitting on a hill.

Glasses, he needed to find his glasses. He felt around on the floor. Lots of sharp stuff, he cut his hand twice, but not too bad. Then he felt around above the wheel. Damn, there was a lot of broken glass, where did it come from? He found his glasses, sitting on top of the defroster vents. He put them on.

Wow, no wonder he felt like he was sitting on a hill, his car was front-first in a ditch. And the windshield was absolutley shattered. And there was...red on the steering wheel. Was that...had he....he looked down at himself. The left side of his tweed suit had several trails of blood. He looked back out. The front of his car was buried in the ditch. Jason was shaking now. What....how....what had happened? He sent his uncontrollably shaking arm towards the rear-view mirror, which was laying on the passenger seat.

Looking in it revealed his face, complete with a gash running from one side of his forehead to the other. He jumped in his seat, struck his head on the roof, and spilled out through the broken door. He scrambled awkwardly away from the car, ending on all fours, 10 feet from his ruined car, shaking uncontrollably. His hands were horribly cut up, and there was a flareing pain in his left arm. There was blood all over him. It suddenly occured to Jason to call for help. He scrambled back to his car, and slammed on the horn with his left hand.

He realized his left arm had been broken just as he passed out from the blinding pain.