We walked through the forest, the only sound being the occasional rustle of leaves and the cracking of twigs.
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I held what I earlier realised to be the map that Mrs. Robinson had handed to my Momma the day we were forced to leave. The map was telling us to head north, toward this ‘New Galaxia’ nation. Honestly, I don’t really like the name.
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The silence, though, was deafening by noon; not a single word had been exchanged between Noah and I days since we started trekking away from the camp. The feeling of being watched didn’t help either, even though all we could see was green. All we saw ahead was green, and everything behind us was green. The forest cover was so dense that you could only see the sun in a clearing, but the map said the cover was supposed to get thinner the further north we went.
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We stopped near a river, crossing it in the dark would be a death wish. I opened my mouth, finally breaking the once continuous silence. “...I think we should stop here for the night.” He only nodded in response, which was, then, enough for me.
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I reached into the pouch Momma gave me, and elbow deep, I pulled out a greyish tent, something I realised we had a while back. There was another tent, but it was charred and almost constantly smoking for some reason, so I left that one alone.
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“There we go… Noah, you can get in.” I said, to which Noah did, me following him inside.
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This sleeping tent wielded inside something you’d not expect, a cottage, of which was a floor high, a very fragile looking chimney jutting out of the ceiling. It was like we were encased in a snowless snow globe, a pane of glass between us and the abyss, and though this was surprising, a lot had already happened that day, and I’d already seen it before.
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We walked past the greenery of the grass and the single tree next to the cottage, entering the cottage to receive a pre-stoked fireplace waiting for us, the warmth gratifying. We sat in the living room, made up of two overstuffed chairs and a side table, the miles of walking we’d done finally getting to us. We were tired, and very, at that.
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I held my head in my hands, wanting the end to all this to come faster, but I knew it would take its time. I got up and walked over the small kitchen we had, in order to make us dinner.
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Our Momma had managed to pack us something to it, and I was very grateful to her for that, as though I could cook, I couldn’t risk it if my attempt at making food turned into an attempt to burn the house down, or possibly poisoning ourselves since I couldn’t spot the difference between poison and grape juice. I opened a cupboard, looking inside.
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We’re running out of food.
O-oh, we’d make it, there’s no need to bother Noah about it, right? Anyways, grabbing two canisters of beans, I opened and served them, handing Noah a canister and a spoon. We sat in the armchairs in silence, the only noise being the crackling of the fire and the noise of metal spoons against an aluminium can.
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We finished up, putting the can in the sink along with other things that I didn’t bother to wash. “...Off to bed, I guess…” I muttered, tired, and that's exactly what we did.
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The cottage had two bedrooms for us to crash in, and I laid in mine, thinking what we’d do tomorrow.
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My eyes fluttered closed, once again surrounded by green.
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I’m hoping for a new colour.
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