Scar Red

4: Journey To The Unknown

"Thank you, come back again soon." I said, waving gratefully at the retreating buyers who had just patronized us.

It's been a long day and the sun wasn't helping at all as it beat down mercilessly on us and our rather small shack. I had been readjusting our goods occasionally so they wouldn't be a victim to our mishap 'cause if they had to endure what we were going through, they wouldn't survive it and fetch us no money.

The hustle and bustle of the market wasn't helping either as the buying and selling was in full swing and so much heat was generated from excessive bodies in one place, skimming and rubbing against each other with so much sweat and smells, prompting me to be severely disgusted.

However my disgust fused with that of mild envy as I eyed the shop a few meters away from us which, from where I stood, looked nigh overthrown and thronging with people looking to buy their goods.

Harrumphing, I thought, "What was so special about them?" Even though the answer was as clear as day in my head.

They had so much more to offer than we ever would. Yes, we both sold basically the same things but theirs was on a larger scale than ours-more stocked and many varieties not to mention they sold cheaper, this, I knew, was the main reason why they had an abundance of customers.

One thing I didn't have knowledge of was how they made their gain if they sold so much cheaper than the rest, maybe they had other side businesses that yielded them plenty and this was just for show, I always concluded.

Also, the attractiveness of our shop paled exponentially in comparison to theirs, while theirs looked like an award-worthy set-up with brightly painted walls and diagrams of fruits and other edibles intricately etched on it, ours was anything but presentable as it looked lackluster with its rusted roofing and faded paintings. We anticipated refurbishing it once more but cash was still being saved to do that.

I sighed, wiping at my sweaty forehead before spotting two unsavory characters who, needless to say were part of my terrorists; Delilah and her dunderhead brother, Faustus.

As expected, their gaze found mine too and involuntarily, a grimace etched itself across my visage. I knew it looked worse than it should be given my marred features but I didn't care 'cause they deserved it. Their faces took on a wistful expression and an evil smirk respectively.

I've tried to forget but every single time she came into my line of vision or my thoughts involuntarily or mysteriously wandered to her, memories of her betrayal and deceit, flashes of that inhumane, disdainful treatment boiled viciously to the surface...

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"But I don't want to go, can we just drop the topic?" I persuaded Delilah for the umpteenth time that day.

She'd been begging me for days now so we could go play with the other kids but I didn't want to and have been kicking vehemently against the idea. I've had an encounter with them once before but that was with Nicholas. The way they made faces and sneered--taunting me, that moment I knew they didn't have good plans for me at all, if given a chance I knew I'd be left in a state much worse that even devastating would be too less of a word to describe it.

The mere thought itself left me reeling backwards and bumping into my brother who had turned to see what had happened. He didn't even have to make an utterance before they got lost but those sneers never left their faces...and here was Delilah trying to persuade me to leave my comfort zone so that like a cow to be taken to the abattoir I could be presented to doom. I say, "Not a chance."

"Please? They just want to be your friend and they promised to be good," she added.

I lowered my gaze to her standing form, her dark hair glistened in the vibrant sun, her hands clasped together, her thin bottom lip jutting out in a pout and her dark eyes gleaming with a hope that my answer would be favorable to her request. I was starting to doubt her allegiance, why was she so bent on this?