Chapter 1: Chapter 5 – Him

-ailith-

I had never met the boy before; I know that for a fact. But the familiarity was getting to me. It was as if a strange sense of deja vu had come over me and it was all I could think about. His hair was golden, his eyes a warm sort of green and brown mixture. Even in the cold, he seemed to radiate heat. Theodore. What a fitting name.

As I walked through the gate and into the house, I found my father waiting for me at the table.

"Ailith, where have you been? You're covered in dirt and sweat." He rose to his feet.

"The wind carried the tarp into the woods and I had to chase after it for a bit." I couldn't tell him about Theodore

He eyed me, seemingly examining my dress which was now riddled with scratches and frayed threads from getting caught on the brush. "You cost me more than you're worth child." he sighed, "I've made stew for lunch. It's getting cold so eat it quickly."

"Yes, father."

After lunch, I returned to my room to study. Or at least try to study, though it seemed impossible at this point. I just couldn't focus. I threw my book down in frustration and fell onto my bed. My father had told me of a world of hatred where no one would accept a murderer like me, but Theodore didn't seem hateful. Despite not knowing me, he looked at me with more warmth and care than I'd ever felt before in my entire 18 years of living. I couldn't wipe his face from my mind. The perspiration lining his hair from running, his large smile, and perfect teeth. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes.

I could not continue to think of him. I wouldn't allow myself to. He was never to return here. Lord knows what my father would do to him if he found Theodore watching the house. No, that couldn't happen. I would just forget his existence altogether. 

However, as I sunk into the tub and scrubbed the dirt and dried blood off my arms and face, I couldn't help but think about him. Theodore of Bristleton. There was so much I could ask him. So much I wanted to ask him. It was selfish of me, but I found myself hoping he would return.

-theodore-

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I made my way back to Bristleton, practically skipping the whole time. I had finally seen her up close. I'd spoken to her. And she'd spoken back to me. Although it had been a short conversation (if you could even call it a proper conversation), I kept replaying her words in my head. She'd told me not to come back, but, I never agreed not to come back. 

I entered my house, whistling some tune I'd made up during the walk. 

"Well well, you're in a good mood today." my mother crooned from the seat where she was slicing some apples. When she finally lifted her eyes to look at me she gasped.

"Theo! You're covered in dirt! What on earth have you been doing?!"

"Oh, I was just running around a bit and fell." I laughed, reaching to grab an apple slice from the plate but getting swatted away.

"Don't touch anything. Lord help me, you're soiling the whole house. I sure hope Mrs. Morrigan across the street didn't see you. She spreads rumors like a rash and the last thing we need is for her to start telling people how uncivilized we've raised you." She clicked her teeth in disapproval. "Go on now and get cleaned up before dinner." 

I walked into my bedroom, stripping off my dirtied clothing and pulling on some fresh ones. 

Flopping onto my bed, I continued to think about Ailith. I'd wanted to speak to her for so long, and now I finally had. I really had stumbled across her home by accident, though that was 5 summers ago. I, doing what most 14-year-old boys did, was walking through the forest and playing some game I'd come up with when I'd found it. The house was in slightly better shape than it is now. Letting my curiosity take over, I wandered toward the backyard. And then I saw her. She looked to be around my age, with her long, dark hair done up in some practical style to keep the summer heat off her neck. I'd been entranced by her. She was by far the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Even while she was covered in soil and sweat from gardening, no girl I'd seen in Bristleton even came close to her beauty. I debated talking to her but was scared off when her father came out of the house. I couldn't quite hear their conversation, however, his words seemed to upset her very much. He stormed back into the home and left her to sit alone in the heat. I was infuriated. I wanted to run in there and give him a piece of my mind (with much of the arrogance a pubescent boy tends to have), but the logical part of me decided against it. Since that day, I've been coming back as often as I can, always looking for an opportunity to speak to her.

I'm sure 14-year-old me was ecstatic that I'd finally talked to her. Ailith, Ailith, Ailith. I repeated her name in my head until I drifted off into sleep.

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