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We Desire Anything but Peace

By Chao


As we step up to the front porch, I look at the house. Two stories (more space than we’d ever need), a nice garage, and a sweet little chimney. As I turn to Emmett to ask him to open the door, I notice something about him; he's shaking. It's happened before when he was too nervous about getting caught. It happens to me too sometimes. It was understandable why he would be scared. We barely got out without being noticed this time.

I hold his hand as I turn to him, then I squeeze it. It had always been our way of asking if we were okay. Our version of okay, at least. He turns to me and gives a small smile.

“I’m fine. Really, I am.” He says it with a shaky voice, but I believe him. I nod. He just needs time. I think both of us do.

He takes the keys from his pocket and unlocks the door. As he opens it, we finally get a look inside the house we’re going to be living in for the next couple of… Well, I don’t know how long we’re going to be here. Could be days, weeks, months. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll be longer.

It smells like sawdust and wet wood. Almost like home. Whatever home is now, at least.

***

We started to unload the boxes quickly. There wasn’t much, as we always had to be ready to leave the less important things behind. We only had a couple of boxes carrying our essentials.

When we finished setting up our temporary spaces in the living room, we started exploring around the house. As a 3-bathroom, 3-bedroom house, it was incredibly spacious. Remnants of the people living here before us still existed, scattered across the house: crayon scribbles, scuff marks, dented edges. It made the house feel alive in a way.

As we lie down, facing each other on the floor with our pillows and blankets, we look at each other for a while. It was nice being able to do this again without a care in the world. We close our eyes, hand in hand.

This was the start of something new. It didn’t matter that we would eventually have to start all over again; we had each other, and that’s all we needed.

“Goodnight, Caroline.” He says it sweetly, pulling me into his embrace. But it felt like he wanted to say something else, something that carried more weight. I wanted him to say it too, but I couldn’t allow it. I left it behind, and if I wanted to keep us safe, I had to leave it behind me.

“Goodnight, Emmett.” Saying his name while wrapped in his arms feels like home.

***

I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. I don't know if its was from a nightmare, but it seems to be the most probable thing to assume. Normally I remember my nightmares, but I can't remember anything now. I’ve had frequent nightmares ever since I was enlisted. They lightened up after I met Emmett, but eventually but got worse after we left and met Riley. I guess that’s what happens when you’re constantly on the run.

Emmett always says to wake him up when things like this happen. I almost always do. But it’s different this time; he needed sleep after driving 5 hours straight. I could handle this phantom nightmare by myself. That’s what I think, at least.

I pull myself out of his grasp, grab a cup from one of the boxes of was left of our belongings and fill it with tap water. After I take a sip, I put the cup down and look around. I feel something akin to a pull. It feels like thrumming beneath my skin, almost like there was a second heartbeat whose rhythm was just a second off from mine.

***

I go back to the living room and shake Emmett awake. He looks at me groggily as he wakes. I feel bad for disrupting his sleep, but it just felt like there's something wrong.

“Caroline?” His throat sounds dry, as well as laced with light concern. He sits up and looks around, then looks at me. He gives me a soft kiss. “What’s wrong? Nightmare?”

“No, it’s not a nightmare- At least, I don't think it is. It’s just something.”

I know I sound stupid. I start to regret waking him up in the first place, but that wrong feeling is still there. It makes the hair on my arms stand up. I start to go back to my place on the floor. “Never mind-"

At this, he lightly grabs my arm. “I feel it too.”

It’s hard to see his face in the dark, being that the only light in this house is the half-full moon coming in through the living room windows. I can’t tell what he's feeling, or what the expression is on his face, but somehow, I know it’s something alike to mine.

 


 

About the Writer...

Chao is a young writer and artist from Florida. They go to school at Douglas Anderson School of the Arts for Creative Writing. Their artwork has previously been featured in the Downtown Jacksonville Public Library.

About the Artist...

Jenna Williams is a drawing and painting major at Douglas Anderson School of the Arts. She loves working with acrylic paint and graphite. Now in her senior year of high school, her art work has won a collection of awards in regional and county shows.

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