Glancing up at the night sky, the window had captured the moon imprinted with a golden-yellow hue to it. The ombre of different grays mixed in with it, creating a more darker mono-ton to the original color. I flickered my attention away from the window to beside me, Kamia curled up in a blanket we brought with us from the prison. She had a soft brown leather jacket on, paring with a white tank-top and some khaki pants on. Judith was beside her, in a small basket my dad, Rick, had made her while we were living at the prison. The rest of the group was on the other side, I didn’t really choose, where ever Judith and Kamia was, I’d be. I had hoped for it to be the case at least.

I took my eyes off of Kamia and Judith, looking at the ground, I sat down beside Kamia. I groaned at the pain in my hand, bringing it up to my eyes sight and focusing my eyes on what I could see of the gash in my hand from the dark. Me and my dad was on a run, but while cutting bushes I gouged my hand with my knife, cutting a deep wound into it. Luckily, I had bandages with me, so I just patched it right up. But I did have to hear Kamia ask me fifty times if I was okay, which I somewhat liked the annoying questions.

I felt my ears perk up at the sound of rain drops falling, the pattern rang on the wind chimes that originally came with the barn when we had found it. My ears perked again at the sound of Kamia’s body shuffling against the barn floor.

“Kamia?” I whispered, seeing if she was awake or not, it was so damn dark it was hard to tell.