Here is the next section of my short story, Meant to Be. I have to hand it in on Friday, so all reviews are greatly appreciated. If you haven't read part one yet, you can read it here: http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/viewtopic.php?t=79379
Part 2:
For many hours, Pierce managed to keep his mind clear, focusing only on getting as far away from his Uncle’s farm as possible. His feet burned and he felt like he could not carry on any longer, though Pierce refused to stop walking. He knew that the longer he could avoid thinking about the day, the better. But eventually, the poisonous thoughts of loneliness crept in.
It started as a dull throb in his chest. Pierce’s mind whispered to him, telling him lies. You’re not worth it, Pierce. That’s why they made you leave… you were never the child they wanted. They only took you in because they had no choice. Pierce knew it wasn’t true, but part of him felt that it was.
It was after midnight when Pierce collapsed under a tree, his thoughts finally crowding out all else. He cried out in anger, turning his face to the moonlit sky. Pierce pounded the ground with his fists, wailing like a four-year-old having a temper tantrum. He felt like a four-year-old, though; like a child who has had their security blanket taken away for the first time. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he fell into a restless sleep.
* * *
Pierce opened his eyes, squinting against the morning sunlight. His entire body ached, though it was not entirely surprising, considering he had slept on the ground.
He pulled a bag of pretzels and a water bottle out of his pack. It wasn’t much, but Pierce wanted to make the food last as long as he could.
When he had eaten his small breakfast, Pierce stood up and continued walking. The sound of cars on the highway was audible through the thin layer of trees that separated him from the rest of civilization, so Pierce followed the sound, hoping to find a town or someone who could help him.
It was not long before he found a small town. Pierce stopped outside a park and sat down on the bench. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he was weary from the previous day’s travel. A few minutes of rest couldn’t hurt anything, anyway.
Pierce had not been sitting there long when a man and woman stopped by the bench. They looked to be in their mid-sixties, and they were holding hands. It was a sweet picture.
“Young man, are you alright?” The man said, letting go of the woman beside him.
“Uh…” Pierce replied, unsure what to say. He tried to sit up straight, but he could tell that his appearance was rather pathetic.
“Have you had anything for breakfast?” The man asked Pierce.
“Sort of,” Pierce mumbled.
“Well, come with us. We’ll get you something to eat. You look like you could use it.” The man clapped Pierce on the shoulder and steered him away from the bench. “I’m Gerald, by the way, and this is my wife Natalie.”
“I’m Pierce.” He was too stunned to say anything more than that, so he followed Gerald and Natalie. Part of his mind told him to be careful, but another believed that these people truly had good intentions.
Gerald helped Pierce into the back seat of their old pickup. It was all he could do not to fall asleep on the ride. Now that he thought about it, Pierce did not know where they were going. Fortunately, he did not have to wait very long to find out.
They pulled onto a dirt road at the edge of town, and soon they arrived at a small white house tucked among the trees. Gerald and Natalie got out of the truck and walked towards it. When Pierce did not move, they motioned for him to follow.
What kind of impression am I making on these people? Pierce wondered. For goodness sake, they found me on a park bench, half-asleep. They seem so kind, and I've just spent the last twenty-four hours running away from my old life. I must be a right mess by now.
“Pierce, the bathroom is just down the hall. If you want to go wash up, breakfast will only be a few minutes.” Natalie smiled at him, pointing to the half-open door.
Pierce thanked her and went in, eager to get himself cleaned up a bit. The relief of being able to wash his hands and face was overwhelming. He felt grubby after a full day without the luxury of home.
As he finished washing his face, the smell of breakfast wafted down the hall, calling him to the kitchen.
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