Page 6 of Come Back for Me
I ran. I ran so hard that I wasn’t sure I’d ever stop. I ran until my lungs struggled to get air. I didn’t stop until I was where I thought no one could ever find me because Declan had something in his eyes I had never seen—fear.
I’m standing here, on the edge of the creek, looking up at the platform I built in the tree where I spent so many days and nights hiding from the hell that was in my house.
What a fucking mess.
Being here is the last place I want to be, but there’s nothing I have to hide from anymore. I’m no longer that scared little boy, and there are no more monsters hiding in the house. Yet, I can’t help but feel the pit in my stomach.
The quiet is almost loud as I stand here listening to the creek that used to lull me to sleep. The farmland is beautiful. I can’t help but see the lush greens and deep pink hue of the setting sun in the sky, illuminating the clouds and making them look like cotton candy.
I close my eyes, lifting my face to the sky, hearing the sound of my breathing.
And then a thump from above causes my senses to kick in.
I look around, trying to see what it was.
Then a sniffle.
“Hello?” I call out, turning to the tree and the platform high in its branches.
There’s a scuffle, the sound of feet shuffling on the wood. Someone is up there. It has to be a kid because a grown adult wouldn’t be hiding up on that platform. However, whoever it is doesn’t answer.
“Hello? I know you’re up there,” I say a little softer because I’m trying to be less scary. “You don’t have to be afraid.”
Another bit of movement and then a cry that is clearly in pain.
I don’t wait, I move up the tree, using the wood steps my brothers helped me build so I would always be able to come here.
“I’m coming up. Don’t be scared,” I instruct, not wanting whoever is up there to fall off the scrap of wood.
I make it to the platform and a little girl is huddled in the corner. Her eyes are wide and full of fear. She doesn’t seem much older than I was the first time I headed up here, but I’m not really around kids much, so I have no clue how old she really is. I do know all about the apprehension and the tears running down her face. I used to wear a similar expression in this spot.
“I won’t hurt you, are you okay? I heard you cry.”
She nods quickly.
“Okay, are you hurt?”
A tear falls down her cheek and she nods again, clutching her arm.
“Is it your arm?” I ask, knowing that’s what it is. When she still doesn’t speak, I try to remember what it felt like to be hurt and alone, hiding in a tree. “I’m Connor, and I used to live here. This was my favorite place on this whole farm. What’s your name?”
Her lip trembles, and she seems to wrestle with whether she can answer me. In the end, her green eyes watch me like a hawk as she clamps her lips tight, letting me know she has no intention of speaking to me.
I take another step up the ladder and lean on the platform. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”
I’ll stay up here for as long as it takes to get her down.
She sits up, her brown hair falling around her face, and she sniffs before pushing it back. “You’re a stranger,” the little girl says.
“I am. You’re right not to talk to strangers. Would it help if I told you that I was also a sort of police officer in the navy?”
Her eyes narrow, assessing me. “Police officers have uniforms.”
I grin, smart kid. “That’s right. I wore one, but I’m not working now since I’m on the farm. Can you tell me how you hurt your arm?”
“I fell.”
“How’d you climb up here?”
