The Truth and Escape

[adoptpetz]

yeah, that was the best title i could come up with.

I had just finished my pot. It had come out nicely. I set it carefully on the counter so I could wrap it. I knew the simple routine by heart. I made the pot, wrapped it up, and then suddenly, it would 'disappear.' I had always known where they went. Elizabeth would send me out to do another errand, and then she would steal the pot to sell. I had found that out after she sent me on an errand to get her something at a shop, and I had spied out one of my missing pots. The store's clerk would tell me the rest. Ever since then, I have never expected to see one of my pots in the house again.
I walked into my room, and lay down on the bed. I hadn't had lunch yet, and wasn't expecting it to come. I only got lunch if my work was flawless. Most times, I would have to take what few coins I had and spend them just feeding or even just keeping rags on my body. I got paid my allowance once a week, usually only one or two coins. I worked odd jobs too, for neighbors. Usually it was enough to renew my art supplies. I usually had to sculpt pots, but my real passion was painting. I painted the most beautiful pictures, you could sometimes mistake them for enlarged photographs from a distance. One of them had landed in a museum, where the owner had willingly paid $500 for it, not to me, but to the man Elizabeth had originally sold it to. I decided that soon, I would make a fantastic painting away from Elizabeth's sight, and sell it myself. I had promised myself that a long time ago, but had been too afraid to do it. I peered out my door, and saw Elizabeth snatch my pot. It angered me so much, I decided I would do it this time. Today. Right after she left, I would smuggle the supplies into my room. I heard the door slam, and started dragging supplies to my room. I hid them all under my bed. While under there, I saw a piece of paper wedged between the floorboards. I pulled it out, and realized it was in fact, a photograph. I looked at it, and saw a family of three. A kind faced father, a smiling mother, and a little baby wrapped in a blanket. I flipped it over, and read the words, "Crystal, Josh and Maddie before wreck.' I looked down at my left arm to see the long scar. The word rang in my head. Wreck, wreck. The people in the photo were my real parents, and Elizabeth was not included in the photo.

[adoptpetz]

I knew I had to leave this place. I still was unsure if I was a slave before, or had been adopted after my family's trategy. I got out my pack, and stuffed all my art supplies in it. My table top collasping easil wouldn't fit, so I would just carry it by the handle. My life depended on these tools. I set the rest of my clay in a basket, and secured the lid tight. I managed to squeeze in all of my unused canvases, along with my brushes, paint, and picks. I poured the remaining silt into travel-safe containers. With all this packed, I was getting ready to run away, when Elizabeth walked through the door, ruining my plans. It was nearly 1 o' clock. I was worried that she would notice my tools missing. Instead, she walked into her tight room and slammed the door. I guessed that she hadn't made a very good sale. Now was my chance.
I flew out the door, as quietly as I could, and sped down the street, trying not to meet the eyes of the onlookers. I had to move quickly before Elizabeth discovered my absence, or a neighbor told her. I had finally made my way past the village, and into the woods. I knew that wild dragons lived here, so I had to be very careful. I didn't stop running until I got to a clearing far away from any civilization. I set up my easel and took out my paints and brushes. I set out on looking for something to paint, and finally found what I was looking for. I had come across a beautiful painting area. I was up on a cliff, looking down on an almost white sandy shore by the ocean.
I know what you're thinking. I had just run away from home, and now I was concerned about my art work? Well, I had near to no money. It was my turn to play sales woman. I would spend my days painting and selling my artwork for what they were worth, no more, no less, and buy new supplies and clothing and food. Artwork was considered very valuable around this area. I could sell one of my best pieces for a hundred or more dollars. I had a rare talent, and I would use it wisely.

[adoptpetz]

I took my time on the painting, but did not manage to finish before sundown. So I took my things and found a cave that I could barely fit into. It got larger the further back you went. I uncomfortably slept on the cold, hard, rocky surface of the cave floor. Darkness enveloped me, and I drifted off into a restless sleep.
When I woke up the next morning, I hesitated in opening my eyes. I had realized what a big mistake I'd made. I had run away from home, and I was in the middle of nowhere with no food or supplies. My last meal had been a few pieces of burnt bacon yesterday morning for breakfast. I walked back out, squirming my way out of the tight entrance. I found some fruit growing on a tree, so I shinnied up and took them down. They smelled like mangoes, but tasted so much better! I decided it was best if I finished my painting, then I'd go off to see if I could sell it somewhere. I was half done with it, and finished around noon. I was very tired, but I was afraid that someone might come looking for me, so I packed up my things and walked on, my easel in one hand, my painting in the other. I was very happy with myself, despite realizing my mistake. Little did I know of what a good fortune was coming.

[adoptpetz]

I walked for nearly two hours until I came upon the closest village. It wasn't as nice as the village I had grown up in, and recently run from, but it wasn't torn down either. I did manage to sell it to a bread shop, since there was no better place to sell it at. They did pay me pretty handsomely. I got $57 out of it, at least. Enough to keep me for a while. I would soon run out of canvases, but there was no place to buy more in this ramshackle area. So with my money on one pocket, I journeyed on, back into the forest without hesitation. I still had a few small mini canvases in my bag. They would have to last me. I trudged forward, through the brush, tripping twice. I was looking for something else to paint. My life depended on these paintings and other crafts I would make. The more I could learn how to do the better.
I couldn't find any views as spectacular as the first one I'd come across, and was about to resort to painting the pine trees while the light was hitting them as it was that moment when there was a rustling in the bush behind me. Too loud to be a squirrel, even a raccoon. I was starting to fear a wolverine or worse, a wolf, had found me. The noise came again, too small for a wolf. A wolverine wasn't that much of a threat if I had a large club. I groped for one. Just my luck: none around. I hid behind my easel should it be a threat. The only noise now was the wind blowing through the bristling trees. Curiosity drove me to see what was behind the plant. Nothing was there, but I heard something running like the wind to my right. I willed myself to hide, but my body had a different idea. It wanted to see what it was, so off I ran, after some crazed critter. Part of me wanted to shut my eyes, but a part of me kept my eyes wide with excitement. Finally I reached my 'destination.' I was panting, breathing very hard, but not a sound make it's way to my ears in the wind over the sound of my blood pumping and my heart trying to jump out from my chest. But I sort of sensed that something-or someone- was here. I let my muscles relax, and my breathing slowed somewhat. A gust of wind sucked behind me, and I had to stifle a scream. I was on the edge of a valley, and the dragon behind me could push me off as if I was a toothpick!

[adoptpetz]

There was a very large dragon behind me. I could sense it. I dared not turn around. No telling whether this dragon was aggressive or not. I just stood as still as I could, half expecting flames to lick at my back, or perhaps sharp teeth digging into my skin. But neither of those things came. Just the rhythmic sound of his breathing. Or hers. I still did not turn around. I don't know how long I stood there, frozen to the spot, but I finally heard the thudding footsteps sounding, getting fainter and fainter. I tried to look on the bright side. At least I had found a nice view to paint.

I found my things where I had set them up, and moved them near to the cliff. This would be more of a challenge. With so much to paint on one of my smaller canvases, and with everything so spread out, it would be hard to capture a good scene. I was hungry, but ignored my rumbling stomach. I finally chose a part of the view nearer to my left. It would be beautiful. Maybe I could position a deer into it too on the right side where I'd have room? I started, each stroke making me more and more excited. I had finished the hillside, covered with bits of brush when I realized I was parched! I started searching for a clear stream, and perhaps something to eat. I found a small string of stream water and drank. It was good and cool to soothe my hot, dry throat. I ate a few berries from a dying blackberry bush. The birds had missed few, and the only ones left were protected by thorns. I risked the pricks. I washed my purple stained hands in the stream, along with my used brushes, and got back to my painting. I was still hungry, but there was no village around to buy food from. I painted the sky into the picture, a purplish-blue. I used very little purple, but just enough to tint the sky. I had to wait for that layer to dry, so I set up a snare of sorts in the meantime. I doubted any creature would be stupid enough to let themselves get caught in it, since it was so poorly made, but I was getting desperate. I added clouds to the sky, then put the touch of my deer into the picture. Now I needed to highlight the light reflecting from the hillside. I thought I was done when I noticed a cave embedded into the hillside. I added that in too, enlarging it slightly to make it more visible. I had to admit, this was one of my best pieces I'd ever done. If my life didn't depend on it, I would have kept it. This canvas was only a 36 by 24. Not my largest, but not my smallest either, which was a 12 by 12. I smiled. I had stayed up until it was dark out to do this, but I needed to finish it quickly so I could keep moving in the morning to buy some real food. I didn't want to risk falling down the hillside to get to the cave I'd just painted, so I decided I'd try to sleep out in the open, right here, just as an experiment.

I couldn't get to sleep. I felt too exposed. I heard a slight rustling in the bushes behind me. That did it. I packed up my things and made a wild dash for the cave. It was bigger than it looked. Once in there, I slept soundly. The next thing I knew, I was awake in the cave with something living curled in my lap.

[adoptpetz]

I wanted to shriek so badly. The only think that kept me from shrieking was all the smoke in the cave. Not fire smoke. The kind of smoke a dragon could breathe. I coughed, and whatever was in my lap rolled off. I couldn't see a thing through the billowing smoke, so I can't tell you how I found my way out of that cave. I didn't bother to take my things. All I knew was that I heard the same thudding footsteps behind me as yesterday, and that this time they probably wanted to kill. I ran as fast and as hard as I could. I flew through the forest, faster than I ever had before. I heard a roar, then a shrill shriek, and then everything went black.

I woke up on the forest floor with my things laying in front of me. Could it have been a dream? No, my bag was slightly singed and smelled of smoke. And I wasn't in the cave from the first day, or looking down on the valley. I sat up, and froze yet again. In front of me sat a wyvern, more deadly than a dragon with it's poisonous tipped tail. I relaxed some when I saw it was a Plain Wyvern, the most gentle type without a poison tipped tail. But there was still the sharp points on it's body and the lethal teeth in it's mouth to worry about. It turned around to look me right in the eye. I expected to be torn to shreds right then, for a wyvern has no fire, but instead, it roared the same roar I'd heard the other night, and flew off. I nearly passed out with relief once more on the spot.