She's alive.

I stepped back, to see a middle aged woman standing before me. She was dressed up in leopard print clothes, a beige hat on her head. For some reason, her face was covered in mud, her clothes also stained...in blood. I let my guard down once, but it was put up again after seeing the blood. Who was she?

"Who are you?" she asked, wiping mud off of her face.

"Who am I? Who are you? And why on earth are you covered in blood?" I questioned back.

"Funny how you're concerned about me when you're also covered in blood."

I looked down at my blazer. She was right. I was covered in blood so I couldn't really talk.

"Anyways, what are you doing out here in a suit?"

"You didn't answer my question." I said, hostile.

"Ah yes, I was just hunting."

"Hunting?"

"Rabbits. A woman's gotta eat, has she not?" She grabbed the rucksack on her shoulder and undid the zip. There was a moment of quiet rummaging before she pulled out the corpse of a rabbit, penetrated with an arrow.

I popped my mouth open and nodded my head. "So...Is this your cabin?"

"Yup. I built it myself." She answered, hands on her hips.

"It's quite old...Have you been living here for a long time?" I asked, staring at the small gaps appearing from the middle of the planks of wood.

The lady's expression saddened, and she sighed heavily. "Yeah, I have. Ever since I ran away."

"Ran away?"

"From home. I left everything behind." Her face was still facing the ground. I let out a small 'oh' to let her feel acknowledged, as I didn't know what to say. She suddenly stood up straight and brought her hands together. "Want some coffee?"

"Coffee? Out here?" I looked around to see my surroundings. It didn't seem like the place you could brew some coffee.

"Not out here silly," she laughed, nudging my shoulder, "In there." She pointed at the cabin's door. The lady opened the door, and offered for me to come inside.

At the end of the day, I had nowhere to stay. She was quite strange, but it was better than freezing out here. Shrugging off the thoughts, I entered the woman's cabin, approached by a surprisingly comfy place. Multi-coloured pillows were arranged on top of a plump couch, which stood in front of a small, rounded table. The floor was covered in a thick layer of carpet, and there were small decorative patterns all over the curtains. To top it all off, there was even a small room carved through the back of the cabin, which looked like a kitchen. It was honestly quite nice.

"So, do you like it?" The woman asked, proud.

"It's great! It's a true representation of never judge a book by its cover," I laughed, "You built ALL of this?"

"Most of it. The furniture comes from the city. I usually pop down there for a monthly shop. I use my bike."

I nodded, and sat down on the couch. "Well, do you want coffee then?" She asked.

I opened my mouth to say yes, but she seemed to be a bit too nice. I didn't want to regret anything, and after all she can't be trusted just because she has a nice home and offered me a place to stay. She's in the middle of the woods, goddamnit. "No thanks."

"Alrighty, no problem." She ran into the kitchen and I heard the kettle boil. I slouched down and sighed heavily. "Task 1- 'Find a place to stay' is complete." I thought to myself. I looked around and saw a leaflet on the table. It wouldn't hurt to be nosy-right? Carefully, making sure she wasn't looking, I snatched the leaflet and placed it on my lap.

I studied the leaflet. There was a picture of a boy in the middle, the letters 'MISSING' written in bold. I shuddered. The picture of the boy was...me. I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't seeing things, but nothing worked. I slowly turned to look inside the room that the woman was in. Who was she? Why did she have a picture of me? My palms began to sweat and I looked at the leaflet once more, hoping the picture was just part of my imagination. But it wasn't. That picture was clearly of me, the name 'Ryder Wyatt' was clearly written in bold at the top of the paper. I began picking at the skin around my nails and rocking back and forth on my seat. I was so confused. So uneasy. Why did the poster say I was missing? More importantly- why was she looking for me? I was startled by footsteps shuffling towards me. Quickly, I tossed the paper back onto the table it was placed on. She walked in, frowning. "What on earth were you up to?" She laughed.

"Just...stretching." I played off, rubbing my neck.

"Ah yes, the ride here must have been long. By the way, where did you come from?"

"The city. I came here for a little camp but lost my stuff and then my car ran out of diesel." I lied.

"How did you manage to lose your stuff?" She asked, while pouring some coffee in a cup.

Instead of answering, I laughed it off awkwardly. "What's your name?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Arya. You sure you don't want any coffee?"

I shook my head, and she spoke again, "I have a couch here, if you don't mind you can sleep here."

Arya finished her coffee and began to knit. She explained how knitting was her usual way of passing time, however sometimes she went out hunting, or even visited the city. We talked for a while, and I came to find she was actually a nice woman. Time passed quite quickly, and as tired as I was, I didn't sleep until Arya did as I was still suspicious. I felt bad for being so, but I had already learnt my lesson: Never warm up to somebody that offers unexpected kindness. Nico, Auden, even Marius. I didn't want to suffer a loss again.

************************

The sun rose and birds began to sing. Light shined through the dusty windows, waking me up. Honestly, I could get used to this. The fresh air, the freedom of living in nature. It gives me a few minutes to feel calm, like the rare moments of when you wake up and everything feels ethereal, before life hits. I suddenly sat up. Where's Arya? Her bed is scruffy and the cabin door has been left wide open. I slowly got up from the couch and rested my head in my hands for a while before standing up. Now I was concerned. Why was the cabin door left open? I slowly crept towards the door and peeked through. There was nobody there. Did she leave me? I looked around the cabin. "Arya!" I called out, distressed. I went towards the door again for a second peak and- 'GASP.' I let out a stifled gasp and lept backwards, my heart racing and eyes wide open. It was only Arya. For a moment I was startled, then sighed and realised I was holding my breath. "Sorry, did I scare you?" She laughed.

"Yeah. Where were you?" I replied, not matching her energy.

"Woah Mr. Grumpy, looks like somebody hasn't had his breakfast. I was out getting some." She held up some fruits and... a rabbit's corpse.

"Don't you go to the city for furniture? For leisure? Why don't you go down to the city for food?" I asked.

"I like rabbits. Besides, fresh fruits from the woods hit better than a full course restaurant meal. Oh, and it's too much effort. I'm broke." She listed.

"Fair point." I admitted, looking at the food in her hands.

"So, you hungry?"

*****************************

I forced down one more berry down my throat and sighed heavily, leaning back onto the couch. "Aw, I'm stuffed!" I exclaimed, rubbing my stomach. It had been a while since I'd eaten a proper meal, "By the way, where did you get your cooking skills?"

"Well..." Arya seemed hesitant. Suddenly, her facial expression dropped into something more saddened, her eyes pointed downwards and her mouth was shut so tight, her skin was all scrunched up together.

"Well, you know how I said I ran away? I ran away because of somebody I used to live with."

I sat up, leaning forward with concern, "If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

She looked up at me, her eyes now widened and her mouth slightly open. Her eyebrows were lifted and she gasped quietly, before sighing heavily. "I was abused. Abused into being the perfect wife. I had to perfect my cooking skills, my cleaning, my serving...everything. I was beat if I gained weight, beat if I lost weight. I was hit if I ever displeased him. He saw me as an object, a slave," She looked up, making sure I was listening carefully, "Then one day, he got so mad at me that he took a knife from the kitchen and attempted to kill me. He stabbed me. Right here." Arya slid down her shirt off of her shoulder to reveal a wide scar on her collarbone. It had healed, but it still had torn skin all around it, and her wound was slightly raised from the rest of her flesh. "He thought he had killed me, so he left. I was still alive. I used my strength to get up and run onto the streets until eventually somebody saw me, and I was saved."

I glanced at her, my eyes tight and worried. This all seemed familiar- the abuse, the husband, the torture and the unbearable fear felt. "And your child?" I asked.

"How-"

"The leaflet. I saw it. Your child?"

"He-"

"You left him, didn't you?!"

"Yes but-"

"Imagine how he is now! You don't even know if he's dead!"

"I had no choice! I was going to die! This is why I'm trying to find him...It's been years, but I'm not giving up."

"You could've come back for him! You might have found it unbearable to go back, but imagine him. A child. If it was too much for you, imagine how your son must have felt."

"You're talking like you know what it was like!"

"I DO, MOTHER! I DO!" I screamed, my fists clenched.

"What?.."

"Don't you get it? I'm Ryder!"

"No...How is this possible?" She whispered...her hands scrunched together on her chest.

"I don't know. But I saw that leaflet- That picture. It was me."

"How do I know you're telling the tru-"

"My Father is David Wyatt. Right?"

"Ye-"

"Your favourite music is the 90's piano classic! Right?" I exclaimed, my voice shaking and my eyes teary.

"Ryd-"

"You made me think you were dead! I saw you, Mother. On the floor...stabbed in the neck."

"Ryder, darling please-"

"No! I hate you!" I yelled, knocking plates off of the table.

"RYDER!" Arya screamed, making me jump. "Darling, let me explain!"

I looked at her, tears rolling down my face and nodded. She got up to sit next to me, and looked me in the eyes before wiping away my tears. "Ryder, I would have died. Listen to your Mother, please. It took me almost a month to recover and it was too late for me to come back! The house had already moved under somebody else's name. I heard your Father died, Ryder. You killed him, did you not?"

"I did, Mother. He-" She put her finger to my lips.

"Shhh, son. That's all I need to know. After he died I went out looking for you. I had nowhere to stay, but I had money that my Mother lent to me. I set up here, built my own cabin and made my own home. That leaflet you saw is the first one I made. There were hundreds after that."

I looked up at her, as she stroked my hair slowly. I was still angry. Still furious. But at the same time, I cried. I cried because my mother was alive. I wasn't alone.

"Darling, you became a pianist didn't you? I saw you on TV. One of the best days of my life, knowing my son was alive and a pianist." She cried, but laughed at the same time.

"I did. But, aren't you mad that I killed Father...?"

"Yes."

I looked up, confused. Mother's expression had changed completely, she backed away from me and wiped away her tears.