Twenty-seven: Gracelyn Sinclair

Temperance

The light shines through the holes in the roof of the treehouse. It hits my eye just right, pulling me out of my restless sleep.

With messy hair and a dirty dress, I bring myself to my feet, my face twisting at my bruised legs.

I know Alec is worried but I can't find myself caring. I need time for myself.

I walk towards the trap door and climb down. Throwing my shoes onto the ground below me.

I relax once both of my feet are on the cool, green grass below me. I pick up my shoes and make my way out of the forest.

I am a mess. A big mess. My hair is tangled, and my dress has dirt and rips all through it. My jacket is ripped at the bottom.

I look like I've escaped a kidnapping, especially with these fading wounds all over my face and legs.

I find my way back onto the road. I am in town. Walking barefoot on the sidewalks, my shoes in my hands.

Lots of people give me weird stares. Some have worried expressions written across their faces.

"Ma'am, are you ok?" A middle-ag