Sweet Escape

Yanaike

Edgenoble
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Invitation Status
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
  2. One post per day
  3. 1-3 posts per week
Writing Levels
  1. Elementary
  2. Intermediate
  3. Adept
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Urban Fantasy, Low-Fantasy, Modern, Adventure, Quests, Modern-Fantasy, Post-apocalyptic, Romance, Drama
Sweet Escape
Twigs snapped underneath Simone’s feet as she ran through the forest barefoot. Her feet hurt from running over the uneven soil covered by branches and leaves. Her feet were terribly bruised and red from blood. Her breathing was heavy and fast.
She felt cold. She was just wearing her blue dress and a white lab coat she snatched on the way out. She wasn’t appropriately clothed for the cold autumn evening’s weather.
She felt lonely. How long had it been since she last saw a human being? A human besides those monsters? A normal human?
She felt tired. Tired from running. She couldn’t remember for how long she’d been running. To her, it seemed like ages. She couldn’t stop. She knew they were somewhere behind her. She couldn’t give up. Not yet. She just had to run, non-stop, in a single direction, hoping she would reach human civilization.
Far ahead Simone noticed the end of the forest. Lights appeared, shimmering in the night. A village? Or a small town? Simone kept running, avoiding the roots of trees sticking out of the ground.
In front of her was the light of faint lanterns illuminating what seemed to look like a garbage dump. Simone jumped over the ditch, separating the forest from the human world. She continued running over the cold stone floor.
There was a figure standing near one of the buildings. A man? She ran towards him. When she was close enough, Simone stumbled deliberately and she let herself fall into the arms of the stranger.
She finally made it. She was finally saved.
 
After a day of travelling the city on the back of a garbage truck, Stanley smelled less than pleasant. The smell of trash always seeped into his jumpsuit, which he wore so that he didn't ruin his clothes every time he comes into work. Work had been finished for the day, the garbage sorted, the trucks parked for the night. The other employees had already left, leaving Stanley by himself. He should leave, but the view kept him distracted.

At the landfill, they dug huge pits to pour the garbage into. When the pits became full, the garbage men would bury the garbage under a mound of dirt and sand, creating a little hill. Eventually, grass would start growing. If Stanley looked at the right angle and ignored the open pits, he could pretend this was natural countryside instead of a park full of trash. The sun always set perfectly between two of these hills, casting a fiery glow that sent the whole site in shadow. Behind him, the forest would turn purple as it became twilight.

As Stanley watched the sun setting that night, he thought he heard a slapping sound, like bare feet hitting the pavement. Of course, no one would be stupid enough to run around in the parking lot without shoes; he must be imagining things. But the sound grew louder, and with it came the sound of ragged breathing. Stanley suddenly realized that something - someone - was running straight for him.

He turned around, but before he could even shout 'hey!' in surprise, someone slammed into him. He stumbled, automatically grabbing the person to keep them from slamming into the pavement.

"What was that for?" He asked, holding the person at arm's length (because he probably stank). It was a girl, with scared eyes and a lab coat. Her feet were bleeding, no doubt from running who-knows-where without shoes.

"Are you okay?" Stanley looks back at the forest, which now looks dark and threatening. "Is someone chasing you?"
 
Simone looked up in the stranger’s blue eyes, wiping a lock of her dark blonde hair from her face. “You saved me!” she said gratefully. “Yes!” she added, emphasizing her last statement. “I’m okay now!” She spread her arms around his waist, closed her eyes and hugged him gently. She ignored his last question. She didn’t want to think back. Not about the facility. Not about the experiments. Not about the men that were probably chasing her. It all felt like history now. The important thing was that she was save now.

Now that the immediate thread was gone, the pain in her feet became more apparent. She moaned. She tried ignoring it, just as much as the desire to sleep that slowly took over her. But she knew eventually she couldn’t fight it any longer. The stranger had to take her home. If he would leave her at the garbage dump, it would be relatively easy for ‘them’ to cross the town’s edge and draw her back in.

She opened her eyes again, and looked him in his eyes. “I’m so tired” she said with a weakened voice, closing her eyes again and gently leaning against his chest, like he was a giant pillow.
 
This girl must not have a sense of smell, because she clings to Stanley, resting her head on his chest and calling him her saviour. She looked exhausted, and she was shivering slightly.

"Um, okay...." Stanley pried the girl off of him but held onto one of her arms in case she fell. She had to be on drugs. Or maybe she had escaped from a mental hospital. Stanley looked up to see if any doctors would come running out of the woods after her. But the parking lot remained empty except for the two of them.

"Okay, listen, I need to do some stuff but you can come with me. Okay?" (Stanley said the word 'okay' a lot.)

He put an arm around her waist and guided her towards the employee's building, trying to hold her up so she didn't have to put all her weight on her feet. He led her into the building, which consisted of a kitchen, a locker room with showers, and a bathroom.

"Just wait here a minute." He lowered her into a chair in the kitchen. Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, he opened it and placed it in front of her in case she was thirsty. "Don't leave this room, okay? Just... Chill here for a second."

Crazy girl or no, Stanley couldn't stand to smell like garbage for another minute. He took a very fast shower, changed from his jumpsuit into his regular clothes, and returned to the kitchen within 10 minutes.

"So what do you want to do?" He asked. "I can take you to the police, or to a hospital. Do you have family in town? I can take you to them."
 
Simone nodded briefly when the stranger asked her to follow him. She was lucky. It seemed he was nice enough t care for her.

They entered, what looked like, a canteen. Simone could imagine how the garbage collectors would come here around noon, to open their lunchboxes and eat up their sandwiches while enjoying each other's silly jokes and boastfulness. The 'canteen' had an interesting smell to it. Not so much the stench of garbage, which honestly didn't bother Simone that much, but a scent of sweat. Sweat of hard working men.

The stranger helped her down in a chair and put a bottle of water in front of her. Without words he made clear that she could have a drink. He said another thing before he disappeared through a door on the side of the room.

For a moment it was quiet. Simone liked it. It was just her, the room and the bottle of water. It was something different than the industrial noises that were before her sleep or the electrical buzzing before the experiments. On the background Simone heard the sound of a shower. Drips falling down on the floor and flowing away. At least it was just water.

She wanted to try one last time. She grabbed the bottle and placed it a few inches in front of her. She concentrated on the water inside of it. She tried channeling the last energy that was left inside her body into the bottle. Slowly a bubble of water separated from the rest of the liquid and started levitating. She made the water move. The bubble squeezed through the opening of the bottle. That's when the sound of the shower stopped. Simone lost her concentration, partially distracted, and the bubble popped, splashing in all directions.

As soon as the man came back, Simone acted as if nothing had happened. She just stared down to her feet, examining the bruises. Because she was so tired, she couldn't feel the pain anymore. Her little test had drained the remainder of her energy.
The man asked her something, but she couldn't hear him. She only caught a couple of keywords. "Take you... Police? Hospital? Family in town?"
Simone shook her head. She didn't trust the police, nor the doctors in the hospital. As soon as they would find out the truth behind her, they would just bring her back. She didn't have family in the town either. At least not as far as she could remember.
"N-No, n-not the police. Don't leave me. Just. Take me... somewhere safe." Simone shut her eyes as she leaned towards the stranger and within seconds she fell asleep within his arms.
 
When Stanley had been away, the girl had splashed water all over the table. She now sat staring blankly at the ground. Stanley drew up a chair, sitting close to her because she spoke quietly.

"N-No, n-not the police. Don't leave me. Just. Take me... somewhere safe."


"Well, the hospital would probably be the safest place for you," Stanley suggested. But the girl didn't respond; she closed her eyes, leaning against Stanley like he was a pillow. He was about to push her away when he realized she had fallen asleep. Or maybe she had passed out.

Well... now what? He obviously couldn't leave her, and she didn't want to go to the police. The hospital made the most sense. Moving her arm to drape it over his shoulder, he lifted her up. Her head rested against his shoulder - she was out like a light. He carried her out of the building and locked the door after him, which was difficult to do while holding someone. Then he walked to his truck. He put her in the passenger seat, buckling the seat belt and letting her head lean against the door.

On the drive to the hospital, he turned on the heater because she looked cold. It was completely dark by now, and when he pulled up to a traffic signal, the stop light tinted everything with red. Stanley looked over to the girl, who remained unconscious. Her face was cast in a soft red glow, and she looked so pretty and helpless. A sudden surge of fondness for this mysterious person washed over him. Maybe they shouldn't go to the hospital. She had asked him to stick with her; that made him feel special, chosen. They could go to the hospital tomorrow, after she had a good rest. He changes direction and drives home instead.

---

Stanley opens the passenger door and gently shakes Mystery Girl's shoulder to wake her up. They are in the parking lot of his apartment complex.

"Hey," he says. "We're at my home. You can stay for the night, but you need to wake up and walk inside yourself, okay? Otherwise someone might call the police." If his neighbors saw him carry an unconscious, injured girl into his apartment, they'd think he was a serial killer. They already didn't trust him...
 
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Simone woke up after a short nap, but she kept her eyes closed, acting like she was still asleep. Her feet still ached, she felt the urge to take a look at her injuries, but she didn't, instead ignoring the pain as hard as she could.

She felt they were moving. She opened her eyes for a short moment. In a flash she saw a street, illuminated by red light, probably from a nearby traffic light. White headlights shined into her eyes. She quickly shut her eyes again. She was in a car. His car presumably? She didn't actually know if the garbage worker was still next to her. She didn't want to look either, not wanting to give away that she was actually awake. She just hoped it was still him. In her mind she tried to fill the missing gaps in her memory. She imagined how he had carried her to his car and laid her down in the passenger seat.

So far her plan had worked. No matter how weak and exhausted he was, her brain was still functioning excellent. She just had to keep acting like the helpless girl for as long as she could, misusing the stranger's feeling of compassion. As long as the man felt like he was doing something good, as long as he felt like a 'hero', everything would be fine!

The car stopped and Simone opened her eyes again for a brief moment. They were in a neighborhood. At least he listened to what she asked him. He didn't bring her to a hospital or, even worse, to the police. When the stranger shook her gently, she re-opened her eyes slowly, looking the stranger in his eyes with a questionable expression on her face. Luckily, it was still him! He asked if she could walk inside on her own. She nodded briefly.
"Thanks" she whispered. "You're my hero!"
After that she stepped out of the car and she painfully stumbled over the path towards his front door. Because of the dark she couldn't see how her feet left a thin trail of blood on the ground.
 
The girl managed to drag herself out of the car and start walking. Stanley's stomach did an odd flip-flop when she called him her hero. He felt just the opposite, not getting her to a hospital when she clearly needed medical care. I can't force her to go, he told himself to assuage his guilt. And she doesn't want to go. So what can I do?

Following a few steps behind as the girl painfully hobbled towards the apartment, he noticed something alarming. Each step she took left a faint black smudge on the sidewalk, almost invisible in the darkness. It took Stanley a moment to realize that it was blood. She couldn't track blood into the apartment! It would freak out the other people who lived there. And if it led to his door, they would get suspicious.

"Hold on." He grabbed her gently by the elbow to stop her, then bent down to untie his boots. "Put these on before we go inside, okay?"

They were way too big for her, so he knew they wouldn't be hard to get on or be tight enough to hurt her feet more. And she wouldn't get blood on the floor. Problem solved. When she got the boots on, he led her through the main doors of the apartment, keeping one hand on the small of her back to help her balance. Luckily, no one was on the ground floor, and the elevator was empty.

Stanley lived on the second floor, in an apartment at the back of the building. He guided the girl down the hallway, assuring her that they were almost there. His neighbor, a middle-aged woman who hated him, was hanging Halloween decorations on her door. She turned when she saw them and scowled, then went back into her apartment. At least she didn't try to talk to them. Stanley unlocked his own door and held it open for the girl to go in.

"Okay," he said as soon as they were inside. "Where did you come from? What happened to you? Are you in trouble? Do you need to eat? We need to take care of the wounds on your feet. Why don't you sit down?"

He forced himself to stop talking for a minute; the girl was probably overwhelmed by all his questions. He couldn't even tell if she was fully conscious.

Stanley cleared his throat, unsure of how to help the girl without stressing her out more. "Just sit down on the couch and rest. Do you have a name?"
 
Simone knelt down when the stranger offered her his boots. She didn't really know why he wanted her to put them on but she didn't care to ask and just did what she was told, tying them to her feet. They were way too big for her. Under normal circumstances Simone would have probably enjoyed marching around in the over sized boots but her sense of enjoyment was suppressed by the pain still coming from her feet.

She followed the man inside. She hesitated a moment when he entered the elevator. Unsure where the hesitation came from she decided to follow him eventually. They soon arrived at another floor. There was a woman in the hallway. Simone offered her a quick smile but the woman didn't respond. She just turned around and disappeared into her apartment. Simone paid a moment to look at the decorations she had put out. Halloween. So it was that time of the year, good to know. Within the facility she had completely lost track of time. Before she escape she didn't even realize whether it was day or night.

He brought her into, what she assumed to be, his apartment. Immediately after they were inside he started firing questions at her rapidly. She understood that he wanted to know who she was and where she came from, but she didn't want to give too much away. The less he knew about her, the better. If she would explain everything he would probably label her as a monster and turn her in at the police immediately.

She sighed wearily and sat down at his couch next to him.
"My name is Simone. I... uh... escaped. I escaped from a group of bad people." She sobbed quietly, her tears were partially real but she overdramatizied a little bit. "B...but I really don't want to talk about that."
Her sad face turned into a little smile as she bended towards the still unknown man. Flirtatious, she twirled a lock of her blonde hair.
"I wanna know more about you! Who are you?"

In the mean time Simone kicked of his boots, taking a look at her injuries. She had to somehow convince the stranger to heal her, and at least made him offer her some bandages. She started rubbing her feet, moaning in a low voice.
 
"Simone..." Stanley echoed. "It's, uh, nice to meet you Simone. My name is Stanley."

He got a kind of clammy feeling when she started crying and said she had escaped. She had a lab coat on, like what a doctor would wear. Maybe she really did break out of a mental hospital. Maybe she was having a psychotic episode, or she was suicidal, and he was putting her in more danger by not taking her to the hospital.

But the girl - Simone - seemed mentally stable. In fact, she was smiling sweetly at him. Under the bright lights of his apartment, Stanley realized how pretty she was, with wavy golden hair and stormy blue eyes that Stanley wanted to just stare into. He didn't, however. Instead he watched her take off his boots. Her feet looked awful; it must be excruciating to walk. He wondered how long she'd been wandering barefoot in the woods.

"We should take care of your feet," he said, stating the obvious. Going into the bathroom, he searched under the sink until he found his old first-aid kit. Most of the supplies had been used already, but the kit still contained bandages and disinfectant. He filled the bathtub with a few inches of warm water, then returned to the living room.

"Why don't you go in there and rinse the dirt and blood of your feet," he suggested. "And then I'll bandage them for you." He paused awkwardly. "And then you can stay the night, if you need to."

She could stay in his room, and he could sleep on the couch. Then tomorrow, when she was less stressed, she might be willing to go to the hospital.
 
The stranger introduced himself as Stanley. Stanley seemed like such a nice and friendly person. His aura felt warm and cosy. Simone just wanted to be with him.

He disappeared for a moment. When he came back he offered his help. She immediately hugged him.
"You're so kind" she whispered, quitely into his ear. "Normal people would have just left me at the garbage dump. Letting me rot away and die. Or even worse, handing me back over to those people... I'm glad you're not like that!"

After that, Simone grabbed the boots he'd given her and she followed him into the bathroom. He had prepared the bath for her with a thin layer of water. She placed the boots next to her on the floor and carefully moved her left feet over the edge of the bathtub. A sudden strike of pain went through her body as her wounds touched the warm water. Her initial reaction was to draw back her feet, but she knew she had to push through if she wanted her wounds to heal.
Soon after her left feed got used to the water, her right feet followed. She now fully stood in the bathtub, and stepped a bit, making little waves in the water. Still exhausted from the day, Simone felt the urge to sit down. Without taking of her clothes, Simone knelt and eventually sat down in the puddle of water.

She vaguely remembered how she, as a little child, and her parents used to visit a lake during the summer. She loved spending hours in the water, swimming around, diving to the bottom of the lake and just relaxing, enjoying the water and the weather. It had been ages since she her last swimming experience. She craved visiting that lake once more, just swimming and for a moment forgetting the terrible things that had happened.

Sunken in thoughts, Simone laid down in the tub, dipping her long blonde waves in the water.
 
Suddenly Simone threw her arms around Stanley. For some reason, her hug startles him, although she'd hugged him like 5 times already. And when she called him kind, he blushed, his heart pounding. He stood there, stupefied, his arms dangling uselessly by his sides. He should have been suspicious of this stranger who had wormed her way into his house and wouldn't stop touching him. But all he could think about was how nice her hair smelled, which was weird because she just came out of the woods and she should be disgusting.

Simone wandered into the bathroom, leaving Stanley alone in the living room. He paced around for a minute, feeling very strange. This girl was so mysterious. What did she mean by 'Those People'? Where did she come from? The only place that made sense to Stanley was a mental hospital, but she seemed sane, if a little weird. And why would she have run away? He decided to just not worry about it, at least for the time being. She was here, and she needed help, and that was all that mattered.

While Simone was in the bathroom, Stanley went into his room and tidied it up. He made the bed and locked the safe he had hidden in his closet; it contained his money and a gun, which he wanted to keep away from Simone - just in case she was crazy. Then he went to the kitchen. The girl was probably hungry after running all day. He wanted to make her something to eat, but he hadn't gotten groceries in a while. He only had a jar of pickles, a loaf of bread and a huge tub of peanut butter. Stanley loved peanut butter, but he wished he had some better food to offer. He put the tub of peanut butter on the counter. He would ask her if she wanted to eat when she got out of the bathroom.

Then he realized that Simone had been in there for a long time. It shouldn't have taken more than a few minutes to wash her feet; she should be out by now. He began to worry that she would try to escape out the bathroom window, or that she had fainted or something. He knocked on the bathroom door, wanting to check on her but not wanting to just open the door (that would be rude.)

"Simone?" He called awkwardly. "Are you okay in there? Did you die?" He was half-joking, but also a little concerned that she had actually died.
 
Simone raised her head as she heard a thumping sound. For a moment she thought she had imagined it. Then there it was again. Someone was knocking at the door.
"Simone? Are you okay in there? Did you die?"
The tone of his voice made her panic a bit. Why would she have died? Had she been in the bath tub for too long? Was she acting weird? Behaving too abnormal?

"Uh... Yes! ... No!" she yelled, answering both questions, but not sure if she answered them in the correct order.

Simone felt a rush. She quickly scanned the bathroom and grabbed a towel from the towel rack. A sound started buzzing. Simone wasn't sure if it was her head playing tricks on her, or if something actually started buzzing. She swiftly tried drying her gold blonde hair with the towel. All of her clothes had become wet because she hadn't take them of. She didn't mind herself, but she was worried about Stanley's reaction. In panic she now rubbed the towel against her clothes hoping it would absorb most of the moisture. She didn't have a lot of time. The buzzing became louder. A drawer of one of the closets opened and an electric razor magically appeared from it, now floating in mid-air, also making the buzzing noise. Oh no! Not now!

She bent for-over in an attempt to grab the electrical gadget. But she tripped over the edge of the bath. She fell, taking down the curtain in her fall, including the rail which broke down from the ceiling not able to handle the additional weight. She fell face down on the floor. The razor dropped on the floor as well and broke down in at least thousand pieces. At least the shower curtain broke the fall and she didn't hurt herself again.

Simone grabbed the sink and got up. She realized what kind of mess she had made. 'Calm down, act normal!' were the thoughts that went through her head. She put her wet feet inside the boots, crossed her arms, bent her head a little and with an innocent look on her face she waited for Stanley to enter the room.

"I am sorry! I'm such a klutz!"
 
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"Yes! No!"

It took Stanley a minute to process what she was saying. Did she mean 'Yes, I died'? He realized she just meant she was fine, so he began to walk away - until he heard the commotion coming from the bathroom.

First he heard splashing, then the buzz of the electric razor that he used to shave his head. There was a loud THUD as something hit the ground, followed by a clang of metal. There was a clattering sound, then the buzzing stopped and everything went silent. All these noises alarmed Stanley. Without thinking, he threw open the door, which was unlocked. Simone stood fully-clothed but soaking wet, her hair dripping water. She still wore the boots. His razor had been smashed into a dozen pieces. The shower curtain lay in a heap on the wet floor. he metal curtain rod had been pulled out; it now sat in the bathtub, and there was a hole in the wall where it used to be attached.

"I am sorry! I'm such a klutz!" Simone said sheepishly.

Stanley just stared at the mess. The curtain rod and the hole in the wall didn't upset him - he had accidentally broken things many times. But he couldn't figure out why Simone's clothes were wet. And why was she messing with his razor?

"Uh... Is everything okay?" He asked. Then he realized how cold she must be. Her clothes and hair were soaked, and Stanley never turned the heat on (to save electricity) so it was always chilly in his house.

"Don't move." He went back to his room and got her a sweater and a pair of sweatpants. They would be huge on her, like the boots, but she would be warm.

He returned to the bathroom and handed her the clothes. "Here, you can put these on. Also, I don't have a lot of food. But if you're hungry, we can get some."

Then he pointed to the pieces of razor scattered across the floor. "What were you trying to do with that?"
 
Simone wasn't sure how to respond. It was clear that soon or later she would have to tell him the full story. But she wanted to delay that moment for as long as possible. She was scared. Afraid of his reaction. Afraid that he, after all the hope he'd given her, would eventually still be turning her in at the police station. She didn't want that to happen. Besides, it wasn't the right moment to tell him everything. She still felt pretty tired and couldn't think straight anymore.

With her head bent she turned down both of his offers. "No thanks" she said quietly. She walked past him, out of the bathroom, without looking him in his eyes and sobbing a bit. "I don't deserve any of this. I'm such a horrible person."

She walked back into the living room and laid down in a corner of the room next to the heating. It felt freezing cold, he probably hadn't turned it on. But Simone didn't mind. Anything was better then her cell back in the facility.
 
Simone didn't answer his question. Instead she started crying and pushed past him, saying something about being a horrible person. Stanley had to just stand there a moment, he was so confused. Had he done something wrong? He hoped not. Maybe she was just embarrassed about destroying his bathroom.

He found her in the living room, curled up in the corner behind the couch, close to the radiator.

"You know that's not turned on, right?" he said after looking at her for a minute. "That thing's like 50 years old and it's a major fire hazard. It's too dangerous to use."

When she doesn't move, he goes back to the bathroom and gets two towels. He hands them to her. "Don't worry about the bathroom. I know how to fix that kinda stuff. But, uh..."

He rubs the back of his neck, hoping he won't sound rude. "I can't have you dripping water on the carpet. It will get mold, and I'll lose my deposit. So if you don't want to change clothes, at least towel off, okay?"
 
Simone calmed down a little. She took the towel and did as he told her, drying her clothes a much as possible.

"I'm sorry for acting so weird." She genuinely felt sorry for him. He was only trying to help her. He was actually being nice to her. Yet Simone was doing nothing in return but causing problems. Even now, when she just sat in a corner doing as little as nothing, she still somehow managed to destroy the carpet with water dripping from her clothes.

"I've bathed with my clothes on." She figured Stanley might have figured that out by now, but she confirmed it nonetheless. "You see, my clothes mean a lot to me. They are the only possessions I have. I feel like they are a part of who I am. This dress for example: I have worn this dress for as long as I can remember. It represents who I used to be: carefree, young, adventurous. This lab coat represents the awful things that happened to me. It has given and still gives me, quite literally, an additional layer of protection. And finally your boots represent the future, hope, a safe and stable base to build upon."

Simone inhaled deeply. She hoped Stanely would be able to understand her. She had told a lot more about herself than she wanted but she had to admit that it felt good just... talking.

After she'd toweled off the moisture, she stood up again. She looked around for a moment observing her environment. Previously Stanley mentioned something about food. She didn't want to be rude and ask for it again, after she turned the offer down just a few seconds ago. However she really could use a bite. It was quite a while ago since she last ate something.
 
"Um, okay." Stanley said slowly. "I could have just washed them for you."

Of course he didn't understand. Stanley didn't care about clothes, or most of his possessions. He only cared about three things: money, his family, and his truck. Stanley loved money not because he was greedy, but because he liked security. If you had money, you could get shelter and food and anything else you needed. Money also meant he could provide for his family. His father was disabled, and couldn't work anymore. His mother couldn't find a job because she had never finished high school. And she was busy taking care of Stanley's father. Stanley also had a little brother who was too young to work. Stanley sent most of his paychecks to them.

He also loved his truck, more than anything. He loved it like it was his baby. Maybe Simone cared about her clothes the way he cared about his truck. That was the closest comparison he had, anyway.

He listened to her explanation - it was the longest time she had spoken at once before - and nodded when she finished.

"Okay," he said. "Well, keep them on, then. You can use that blanket if you're still cold."

He pointed to a very old-looking quilt that sat on the back of the couch. Then he continued. "I think that we should focus on making you feel better. We should bandage your feet before they get infected. Then you should get some sleep, and we will figure out what to do tomorrow."

(Hopefully she would agree to go to the hospital by then.)

"Are you sure you aren't hungry?" Stanley asked, walking towards the kitchen. "I sure am. I have bread and peanut butter, and... Well, that's it. But you're welcome to have as much as you like."
 
His whole reaction and the expression on his face made immediately clear that he didn't really understand what she'd been saying. She could tell that he was a very simple-minded person, mainly enjoying tangible things. Items with a deeper, more symbolic meaning, like Simone had with her clothes, were to vague for him to understand.

At least he respected her. She grabbed the blanket he offered her and wore it over her shoulders. It felt nice and warm.

When Stanley mentioned the bandages, she looked down upon her feet, hidden in his over-sized boots. She'd almost forgotten athat she herself was the one who silently hinted getting her feet bandaged. Honestly she wasn't sure if she would need the bandages anymore. The warm water in the bath tub had done its work. Her feet didn't hurt anymore, nor did they bleed. They now only appeared bruised and a bit swollen. She guessed it wouldn't hurt getting them bandaged either.

She expected him to get the bandages immediately, but instead he brought up the topic of food one more time. Her stomach couldn't help but making a rumbling noise. She blushed, looking down ashamed.
"I guess I'm a bit... hungry?" she said. "Would you mind? I really don't want to be a nuisance." Then she noticed the dining counter behind him. It seemed he prepared already.

Simone followed him into the kitchen and sat down at the counter. She saw a brown jar on the table and guessed that that would have to be the 'peanut butter' he'd been talking about. She had never seen something like it before. How was someone supposed to eat it? Was she supposed to take it out and cut off a piece of it, or was she just supposed to dip her finger in it and dive in? While in doubt she searched eye contact with Stanley, hoping that he would have the first bite. She didn't want to look like a complete fool once more.
 
"You're not a nuisance!" Stanley said quickly. "I'm just sorry I don't have an actual meal to offer. But at least we won't go hungry."

Talking out several slices of bread, he slathered each with a generous lump of peanut butter. He wasn't sure how much he should make; he could easily eat half a loaf of bread by himself, but he didn't know what kind of appetite the girl had. He ended up making a dozen slices of peanut butter bread. He took a slice of bread, folded it in half, and ate the whole thing in one bite. He was about to gobble a second piece when he realized he probably looked like a pig. He made an effort to eat slowly.

"Have you never had peanut butter before or something?" He asked, noticing that Simone was just watching him blankly. He pushed the plate toward her. "You can have as much as you want."

Silence filled the room, and after a minute Stanley felt awkward. He still didn't know anything about this woman. "So, uh, how long were you wandering in the woods before you found me?"