Page 6 of Pieces of Halves

Jacob’s eyebrows go up, and he laughs, so I exhale with relief.He doesn’t think that I am weird or broken.

His laugh is so beautiful that my heart does something funky. Something in me craves to hold on to his joy.

When we cross the road, his hand is hovering – never touching— at the small of my back. It is a protective stance, and my heart aches at that. He does it so naturally and instinctively, as if he does this all the time for all the ladies.

I know I am running because my father plans on doing the same thing this year as he did on my last birthday, yet the memory of the actual event has faded.

My father has hurt me. That thought painfully squeezes my heart.

As pleasant as this strange man is, I must keep running. The plan is to board the ship and hop the Islands of Geily until I get to the continent of Prie. Once there, I can get lost on the massive continent and live my life like it was before my father reappeared.

How am I going to make all of that happen? I don’t know. There is no well-thought-out plan. As it’s obvious by the fact that I have no money or resources.

The grass is soft and cool when we sit down. I lean back on my hands and watch the passing people for a moment. Everyone is going somewhere. Some arein a hurry, and others simply enjoy the walk. A few are alone, and some have company. There is chatter here and there, but it is peaceful.

Jacob lies flat on his back and closes his eyes immediately. Looking up at the sky, I find fluffy clouds sparsely floating, even though the evening is approaching quickly. It will get dark shortly, and I will have to part with my stranger.

“Oh. There is a bear,” I comment on the shape of the cloud lazily passing by. It was a game Vera and I used to play; we would wait for clouds to pass us andthen guess what shapes they were. “That one looks like a bunny.” I spot another one. “And there is a dragon.”

It’s a silly childhood game, but it brings warmth to my soul. When I focus on the minor things in life and find satisfaction in them, I feel free. Right now, I need that escape.

Jacob grunts, so I look down at him. His eyes squeeze shut, and his lips twist as he exhales heavily. Assuming he is annoyed with my obnoxious behavior, I stop talking and bring my knees to my chest. I don’t know where to go from here, so I sit and pick at the blades of grass.

I will figure it out somehow.

Sweet Voice.

Chapter Three

JACOB

ith my eyes closed, I enjoy the sound of her voice. My head is splitting in two, but when she talks, it seems to make it better. It’s as if the sounds coming outof her mouth are medicine.

“Oh. There is a bear,” she says. I want to smile at her strangeness, but this damned headache won’t stop. “That one looks like a bunny.” There is excitement in her voice, and the tension in my skull lessens. “And there is a dragon,” she adds.

Where did this woman come from? Simple, yet so unique. She smiles a lot, but I sense thepain hidden behind her eyes – as if she is forcing herself to forget something. A wave of dull painpasses through my brain again. I grunt and grind my teeth from the discomfort.

These headaches happen rarely, but when they do, they hurt like hell. Even though with time, they have been getting a little more frequent. In moments like these, I wish the progress with my mother would go a little faster. It’s not guaranteed that she will have the answers I need, but she’s my best option. Even Tangu, my companion demon who resides in my ring, doesn’t know everything, and he knows a lot.

Izzy stops talking, and the throbbing inside of my skull increases to the point where I have to remind myself to breathe.

“Did the clouds disappear?” I ask as playfully as I can manage.

The way she talked about them was ridiculous but amusing. It makes my heart feel warm when she seems genuinely happy, even when it is about such childish things.

“No. I don’t want to bother you with silly games,” she mumbles, her voice suddenly small.

It takes all the muscles around my eyes to peel them open just so I can see her. She is hugging her knees with one arm, and with the other, she is mindlessly plucking at the grass.

“It’s not you. I have a massive headache,” I groan and close my eyes.

Even the dull light of the evening is too much.

“Oh,” she says, and I hear movement. “Here.” Her hands press against my hair, and she moves my head up. Before I have a chance to understand what is happening, my head is on her lap, and her fingers are digging into my temples. “This should help.”

The pressure of her fingertips against the tight muscles is bliss. With an exhale, the pain vanishes, and I can finally breathe with ease. I open my eyes and forget where I am and where I am going. She is looking down at me, her blonde strands falling over her face, and a proud smile on her face. She looks like an angel. Beautiful and delicate. Perfect.

“Did that help?” she asks, her smile growing. “Vera, my nanny, used to get migraines all the time. She taught me to massage the scalp so I could do it for her,” she explains, sharing a little bit about herself, and I hold on to it like a treasure.

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