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him back and forth. The child in her arms was pasty white and unmoving.

    The only reason I could even see the children was because the moons red ray of light that shone crimson through the window.

    The children stared up at me in shock. It was so silent in the room that I could hear the steady dripping of the water leak in the corner of the room. Drip. Drip. Drip.

    I followed my first instinct blindly and ran towards the children, my arms outstretched wanting to embrace them.

        All the kids scurried backwards in fright. The blond girl with the young boy held against

her, shouted at me, “You cannot have him! Here, take me instead!” She gave the child to some other kid and stumbled to me.

    I felt like I was going to throw up and I would have to, if I had anything in my stomach. So instead, dry heaves wracked my body, not for the first nor the last time, I new.

     As I was on the ground I saw a watering boll and a heap of what looked like rotting meat. They were treated like animals. Below that even. They were merely food for the demon.

    “We are not here to harm you. We have came to save you from the evil man.” Phoenix told them, while extending his arms with his palms outstretched. The children slowly started to uncoil out of the cowering positions and stumble feebly toward Phoenix. The blond girl grabbed the young boys limp body again and followed the rest of the kids towards Phoenix. They trusted him. I had always known that children had a type of sixth sense, allowing them to feel the good and bad in people. They must have sensed my demonic background. That meant that they sensed something pure and good in Phoenix. If the children trusted him, I knew I could. Something in the back of my mind was screaming at me to not to trust him at all. That he was bad, but for once in my life, I ignored my intuition and followed my heart.

Yram

And I said, Oh that I had wings like a dove! For then I would fly away, and be at rest-Psalms 55:6

 

    “Come on, follow me. Lets get you free of this place.” I told the children. They looked hesitantly up at me. Not sure if I could be trusted. I did not blame them, though their fear hurt me a little. I myself, did not know if I could be trusted. The kids all looked to Phoenix, asking him with their eyes, if I was safe. He smiled and urged them forward.

    They all followed me, at a safe distance, up the dark hall and into the living room.

    With the torch lights flickering eerily around me, I scooped up a handful of the gray and black ash. I then brought the palm of my hand to my lips and blew the remains of the man's scorched flesh across the room. The ash fluttered from my hand lazily before settling like a thin blanket on the wood floor. I looked into the palm of my hand and gazed at  the sharp knife that sparkled and glinted at me, as if it was begging for my attention.  I would have need of it again so I shoved the murderous thing into my pocket. That act alone proved I had changed since I left my home. In a few short days my personality had been drastically altered. Who was I? What had I become? I hoped the lord knew, because I sure did not.

    At first when we all stepped out of the house, the children gazed in shock and awe up at the moon. Then suddenly the children ran into the darktown leaving nothing but small trails of the ash they had stepped in. They were free, and they would not waste a second of it thanking the man who saved them. I did not blame them. I left the very person who gave life to me. I left her because I was afraid, despite what I told myself. I was so afraid.

    “They are going home.” whispered a small sweet voice behind me. I looked back startled to

see the blond girl with one hand curled around Phoenix's finger and the other holding the dead boy. 

    “And what about you?” wondered Phoenix while falling to his knees so that he would be at her height. “Why are you not going home too?”

    “‘Cuz I don’t have one. I was raised to be a feeder.” she told him simply, acting as though she said she liked coloring instead of saying that she was raised to be fed to a demon. I did not want to think about what she had said much longer, so instead I changed the subject .

    “What's your name, sweetie?” I asked, trying to sound motherly but my voice came out strained. Her eyes went wide and she flinched at the sound of my voice.

    “I don’t have one of those either.” she said while regaining her confidence and staring me defiantly for a few moments. It was as if she was saying, “Go ahead and think low of me, I don’t care.”

      I saw myself in the girl. I remembered a time when I would walk through my village as others would spit at me and whisper behind my back.

    “Well lucky for you,” Phoenix was telling the girl kindly. “Yram happens to be great at helping people find names. In fact, just a couple minutes ago, she helped me find a name.” (I really had to stop asking people their names.)

    I glared over at Phoenix. He just smiled back at me awaiting my answer. Maybe he just did not know what a glare meant, like he did not know how to smile... I quickly diminished the thought. If he didn’t know what a glare was after walking naked throughout the evil city, he would be quite dim. And I had a feeling he was anything but.

     I shot him one last glare, which he promptly ignored.

    “Well, what is your favorite thing to do or something you love?” I asked to stall her while I wracked my brain for names.

     “I don’t know of anything I like to do.” she said and glanced down at the motionless boy. “But um, I do love my brother very much...and I love that I am here to protect him.” as she said so she stroked his forehead lovingly.

    “Custa.” I told her instantly. “It means protector. Like how you protect your brother.”

    The girl looked sad as she told me, “B-but miss? Custa is in Latin. I know it is the holy language, but to me it is evil, because the demon who spoke it, well, he killed my friend.” her lower lip started to wobble and I wanted to take her up in a hug, but new I would only scare her.

    “You see, that is the beauty of your name. Latin is supposed to be a evil language but we can turn it into something good, by giving you a Latin name we prove that even evil has a glimpse of hope. You, Custa, are hope.” I told her trying to make a point that there is still good in the world. At first I was not sure if I could tell a child so young all that, but then I realised if anyone deserved the truth, she did.

    Custa got a serious look on her face as she nodded, accepting her name.

    “But miss? If evil has a glimpse of good, doesn’t that mean that good also has a glimpse of evil?”

     I had no words for her then. What she said disturbed me immensely.

    In the distance I heard Hosannas hoofs clicking on the road and shouting of people following that. I looked down at the unmoving child in Custa’s arms, praying that on the rare chance that he was alive.

    “Can I see your brother?” I asked the young girl, holding my arms out to her. “I just want to see if he is okay.”

    Custa did not want to hand over her brother I could tell. The girls big blue eyes looked to Phoenix.

     “Go ahead. She just wants to see if he is okay.” Phoenix urged her, brows lifted in sincerity.

    “But she is like the demon.” I heard her whisper to him.

    “No she is not.” Phoenix told her firmly. “She is nothing like him.”

     But how would Pheonix know? How would he know I wasn't just a psychedelic as the demon?

     Unsurprisingly, Custa trusted him and took a hesitant step towards me. She slowly, delicately, handed me her brother.

       The feel of the child's cold body against mine made bile rise in my throat. I would happily take the little boys place, if he was dead. My pain and death would be much easier to handle than the child's in my arms. What if he was dead? What would I tell Custa?! Just the thought of telling her that her brother was dead would break me.

     Taking in a prolonged breath I placed my hand above the child's mouth. Though his body was as cold as ice, his skin pale and lips blue, I could slightly feel the exhale of cold breath on my palm.

     He was alive! Relief flooded through me in waves. Thank you Father! Thank you.

    I looked down at the shabby clothing that barely cover the boy, just like the girls cloths.

  “He has hypothermia. He needs a blanket or warm clothes, quickly.” I told Custa and Phoenix.

   I looked down at my attire. I definitely had no clothes to spear nor did Custa. I gazed at Phoenix. He certainly did not.

    With relief I heard loud clunking of hoofs trotting up the road behind me. Custa’s eyes grew as wide as meat pies as she stared in awe over my shoulder.

      I smiled. A warm puff of breath ruffle my hair.

     Handing the child to Custa I spun around and wrapped my arms around Hosannas large, warm neck.

   “You made it, boy!” I cried, almost in tears. My boy came back for me! Hosanna snorted in response.

    I was so wrapped in the comforting silky feel of Hosanna in my arms, that I almost didn't hear someone demand, “Ey! Grab that there animal for me, woman!” I looked around Hosanna's large frame to see a hairy man running at us, followed by a huge crowd of hungry eyed people with a variety of sharp objects in their hands.

    In a starved town like this, I should have known that Hosanna would be followed by hungry admirers.

     Noticing that the ripped half of my shirt was still tied around Hosanna's face, I slipped it off and handed it to Custa. Maybe that would keep her brother warm enough, for now.

     “Here that will keep him warm! Now go! Hurry before the people are upon us!” I told the girl hurriedly.A young girl was not safe in a riot of people. Who knew

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