Fixed, But Broken

Hey! Second story I'm going to post up here, and it might become the sequel or prequel to my other story, The Phoenix Revolt, or it might be just a separate short story. But either way, here it is! It's also work in progress, so sorry. But still comment and give any suggestions!

Fixed but Broken

                Sometimes the hardest decision is whether or not the road you’re walking is the correct one or not. It’s like you always meeting a fork in the road. But which one is the correct path to take? The one on the right or the one on the left? And, after you choose a path, did you choose the right one or not? How can you tell, if you don’t know where you’re heading in the first place?

                The name’s Ivy. No last name needed. I don’t have one anyways. I wander the streets here, in this small town, off the edge of the Great Empire capitol. Hate that place. It’s so full of happy people who think everything’s perfect in the world. They think that they’re helping all the rest of us just by donating some money here and there. Stupid idiots. I don’t need money, and I don’t want money. What I want is someone I can actually trust. Who doesn't think I’m a street-rat. But who cares. If they want to judge me, they can do what they want. They don’t matter. Barely anything matters anymore.

                It was raining. Again. Yeah, there was a storm for the millionth time this week. Both physically and emotionally. I trudged slowly down the flooded street, barely feeling the muddy, freezing water slide silkily around my ankles. The water was already up to my ankles, and it was still steadily rising. Yesterday, the water ended up at mid-calf. Why did this rainy town also have to be at the bottom of a steep valley? Sighing, I looked up at the dusty gray sky. No stars as usual. I halted in my steps. Stars…

It seemed like so long ago. Back when there was warmth, and love. Before all this happened. Back when I was still a child. I vaguely remember a pair of soft arms, carrying me up, up higher and higher, so I could try and reach the stars. But now, the stars had left, each and every one of them, along with those soft arms. I shook my head vigorously. No use looking behind if it won’t bring anything back.

I wandered down the street for a while, until I found some stone steps that were above the water at least a couple of inches. It would keep me dry for the night. I closed my eyes, curled up into a ball, and fell asleep.

“Well, what do we have here?” a voice mused.

Groaning, I looked up to see an older girl staring at me with a smirk on her face. She was wearing simple clothes, a pair of colorless pants and a shirt, both of which had some strange looking holes scattered about on it. A smirk adorned her face.

“Well girlie, what are you lying around for? Come on in? We’ll get you dry sooner if you do you know.”

I just stared at her retreating back. She had stopped in the middle of a tiny courtyard, which led to a tiny cottage house made of wood. The wood was old but sturdy looking. Her head was turned to the side a little, so I could only see part of her face. She motioned with her long and skinny arms for me to follow. Hesitantly, I did as she told.

The inside of the cottage was just like the outside. Dim, and small, but oddly warm and cozy. A dark hallway led from this room we just entered to somewhere unknown. A small fire was flickering in the corner, with two cushioned chairs messily placed around it. The girl patted one of the chairs, and I cautiously sat down in it. She dragged the other chair over and sat down next to me.

She scrutinized me while I stared at this strange, faded scar that was on her left wrist, right where a person would normally wear a bracelet.

Suddenly, she turned around and yelled towards the hallway, “Brandon, get over here!” so loud that I flinched. After a minute or so, shuffling noises and groaning could be heard getting steadily louder down the hall. Soon, a boy, about the same age as the girl, tripped into the room. A wrinkled white shirt and a pair of baggy gray pants hung on him as he rubbed his eyes sleepily.

Yawning, he asked, “What’s wrong Silv?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “If you actually opened your eyes, you would know.”

Mumbling something incoherent under his breath, he looked up from the ground, and gasped.

“A kid girl! What?!”

Rolling her eyes again, the girl replied, “I found her sleeping on our front steps. She looks half starved to death, she’s wet, it’s cold out there, and she has obviously been living out on the streets, so I decided to bring her inside.”

“She looks like you did back then! Well, excluding the fact that she has black eyes, where as you has caramel colored eyes.”

“Bingo. She looks smart too.”

I just sat there, watching the two of them interact.

The boy's face suddenly paled, and he gave a short yelp.
"Silv, you can't be thinking of that, can you?"
The girl just smirked in amusement.
"You panic too much, Brandon. Why not?"
"Are you kidding me?! That's one of the craziest ideas you've ever had! I thought you were just joking!"
I kept staring. It was similar to watching two people playing ball, back and forth.