Red.

ELIJAH

A few years ago

I was chasing after her, my feet pounding the earth as I desperately tried to catch up. It was a silly game of hide and seek, or so it seemed. But deep down, I knew it was more than that. She was running away from home, and something inside me told me I had to follow her.

My parents' warnings echoed in my mind -

never go out without permission, it's dangerous out there. But I didn't see any danger.

The woods seemed peaceful, the trees towering above us like sentinels. We lived in an isolated place, far from the hustle and bustle of the world. I was homeschooled, and my only friend was the ones I made in these woods and she belonged to an important family.

As I followed her green bag in the distance, my heart raced with worry. It was getting dark, and I didn't want to lose sight of her. I pushed aside branches and leapt over roots, my eyes fixed on her retreating figure.

Finally, I caught up to her, and she spun around, her eyes flashing with anger and tears.

"What are you doing here? You can't be here," she said, her voice trembling.

"You can't either," I replied, my breathlessness matching hers.

She shook her head, turning away from me. "Just go away."

But I couldn't leave her. I knew something was wrong, something that made her run away from home. "I can't leave without you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

She turned back to me, her eyes welling up with tears. "Or what? You'll call my brother for me?"

I took a step closer, my heart aching with empathy. "Listen, if I wanted to do that, there would be an army out here."

We stood there, two children who knew too much, too soon. Our world was one of secrets and lies, of nomadic existence and fleeting connections. Our families had taught us to be thick-skinned, to never get too attached. But in that moment, I realized that attachment was exactly what we needed.

And then, in a few moments, my mother's words would come back to haunt me. "The more attached we are, the harder it is to let go. And in our world, you have to learn to be thick-skinned otherwise your world will fall apart."

After convincing my friend, Red, to return home with me, we snuck back into our houses, careful to avoid being caught by the guards. We had to enter through the window she had escaped from earlier, as using the front door would have raised suspicions.

As we climbed into her room, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions - relief that we made it back safely, and nervousness because I had developed feelings for a girl who's name I didn't even know and I knew it wasn't good.

Red seemed shaken, and I didn't press her to talk about why she had run away. I assumed she didn't want to discuss it, and I didn't want to push her.

As I turned to leave, thinking she was going to sleep, I heard the sound of raised voices coming from downstairs. My heart began to race as I recognized the angry tones of our parents.

I crept back to the window and peeked outside, seeing our parents standing in the yard, guns pointed at each other. The look on their faces was fierce and unforgiving, their words dripping with venom. "You lied to me, Rossi," my father spat, his voice low and deadly. "You killed my sister and now you want our territory?"

My mother's voice was equally cold, her eyes flashing with anger. "We told you what would happen if you made us your enemies. You've dug your grave with us, Rossi. Now lie in it. I don't want to see your family ever."

And with that, my father raised his gun and fired, striking someone - I couldn't see who - and Red's family member slumped to the ground. My father beheaded them, the sound of the blade slicing through the air making my stomach turn. The crimson color splashed all over my dad, but he didn't flinch, his expression unchanging.

I felt a chill run down my spine as I realized what had just happened. Our families had been at odds for years, (according to my mother) but I had never seen it escalate to this level. And in that moment, I knew that our lives would never be the same.

Red, the girl I had come to care for, represented everything that her name symbolized - fierceness, valiance, unpredictability, and a hint of danger.

She was a wildfire at such a young age, untamed and unbridled, and being around her made me feel alive. But now, as our families' feud reached a boiling point, I feared that our friendship - and our lives - were in grave danger.

And that was the last I saw of her.