... > I found... A BOOT!? < ...
It was raining outside, that was nothing new. Echo sat in front of her fire, reading a book and wrapped up in a blanket. Despite it being summer, the wet atmosphere was making it rather chilly. The woman took a sip of her hot chocolate, when there was a knock on the door.
With a grumble, she went to it, and opened. Only to find a police officer scowling down on her, and a rather pouty and disgruntled child squirming in his grasp. "Uh...." she paused, words escaping her at that point.
"Ma'am, this girl was found running around town. It's after curfew; she's not around out." The officer said grimly. By the mud splatters both on him, and the girl in his grasp, it was obviously he had had a hard time catching her... and was not happy about it.
Echo sighed, not the least bit surprised. The girl was out a lot, and didn't always make it home before dark. The woman backed up, welcoming them in. "Do you want something to warm yourself up with? You did have to drive all the way over here."
The officer let go of the child, who edged her way in. "No ma'am, that's okay. Good day." He tipped his hat and walked off into the darkness, huddled in his coat with hands in his pockets.
The door shut, and she turned around. "Mackerel, this is getting out of hand."
Mackerel looked up at her Guardian with blue eyes. Discontent and bitterness resided there. It took all of Echo's resolve to not look away. "You won't do anything, you never do." And with that said, the girl took off her muddied coat and boots.... right there.... on the carpet, no less... and then walked away.
"Mackerel!" Echo gasped and lunged forward. It was too late. With a grumble and curse, the woman picked them up and took them to the laundry room.
There, she measured the soap, water settings, and put them in. First, she checked the pockets of the jacket. Nothing there but some change and a few money bills. Then went in the boots... one... two... three... THREE!?
The last boot didn't match the other two. It was blue, with mud on the bottom. But it was not Mackerel's side. Had she stolen some boots? If so, where was its pair?
Echo shut the washer and walked to Mackerel's room with the blue boot in hand. She knocked, and then opened the door.
Mackerel was changing, and her glowing green wings cast a sickly appearance to the girl's pale skin. She looked over her shoulder without concern as she put on her white nightgown. "What?"
"What's this?" Echo lifted the boot.
"I dunno," the girl turned her back to the woman, and then sat in her chair with a book in her lap. Without looking up, she said under her breath, "I never saw it before."
Echo didn't believe her, but saw that arguing was not going to solve the issue. She sighed yet again, this time in resignment, and walked back to her fire. This was supposed to be such a peaceful night, too.
With hot chocolate nearby, Echo decided she would inspect the boot. The mud on the bottom was dried, so possibly not even from that day. Quite possibly, it had already been in the house. But that didn't make too much sense: she hadn't seen it before, and if it would have -say- already been in the laundry room she more than likely would have tripped over it earlier. So, then, where did it come from?
The woman inspected further, to try to answer the question. Maybe there would be some clue - any clue - as to who this boot belonged too. No reason to try and find its pair.... could be from anywhere. The leather was well-worn, but taken care of - except for the mud, but that seemed out of place considering it all. Echo looked inside, there was no name on the tag. The lining was sunken in, as happens when a shoe is broken in. She inspected the leather closer. There was some scratching but it had been polished to a minimal. Whoever it belonged to.... she had no idea.
Finally, after hours of pondering over the boot, Echo fell asleep, the object of contemplation in her lap.
She was hiding under her bed, the darkness of the room was palpable... except for a light shining under the door.
She got up, but a voice inside her mind begged her to stay. Under the bed was safe, and she couldn't find her there... as long as she stayed away, then the pain could be avoided for now. Not like it mattered, for it would start anew tomorrow. There was no escaping the pain. But here, here and now she didn't have any new bruises or scraps. So why risk it?
But she was curious. The yelling started, on the other side of the door. It was a woman's voice. Her mother? No, her mother - her nice, gentle, sweet mother - was gone. Gone from this world and from her. Left her, like everyone else. Just more pain.
So, if it wasn't her mother, who was it? She had to know. Her instincts told her to stay away, but curiousity was stronger.
She reached out to turn the knob, but it twisted before she could touch it. Light and pain met her on the other side. A strong hand grasped her throat, and as she struggled to breathe, the beating began.
Echo woke with a loud gasp. She took in a deep, painful breathe as she reached to her neck to ensure there were no etheral fingers there. There were none, but the skin was sore, and each breathe painful. Her fingetips met with something wet. She took her hand away, and looked at the clear tears on her tips.
Her breathing was slowing, getting itself accumulated to the free flow of oxgyen down her wind pipe. Echo wiped away her tears and stood up. The boot fell from her lap and landed on the floor with a thud. Bending down, the woman grabbed it... and immediately let go. The boot was hot, very hot! So, she left it there.
The fire was mere embers now.... The light outside the window changing color. Echo felt sore, as if she had just run a marathon. Her lungs definately agreed with that thought.
The sound of metal and ceramic sounded behind her. Echo jumped, and turned to the sound. There was Mackerel, her hair tossled from sleep, and she was eating a bowl a cereal.
With a scowl, the girl looked up, "What'd you do to your neck?"
"What?" Echo said through a dry mouth, her voice raspy and rough.
Mackerel flinched at the sound, "It's all black and blue. You should thrash in your sleep so much, you could choke yourself." The girl walked back her, to go to the dining table to enjoy her breakfast.
Echo didn't even have the chance to revel in the idea that the girl cared about her. Her mouth was dry again, and it wasn't from not talking all night. Fear crawled up her spine; what had happened last night?
