The cold morning air clutches my face as I shiver once again. Mom and dad had never returned last night and after hours of deliberation and waiting for their return, I fell asleep. I couldn't remember what had happened, I just recall a white shimmer and being so damn cold.

Now it seemed like the world was empty and I was lost in the middle of nowhere. I sat up, my eyes widening at the realization that I forgot to zip up my tent last night and probably thousands of mosquitos made a meal of me. My eyes scanned the huge red bumps across my arms and probably on my face. I ran a hand up my cheek to find that my hypothesis was correct.

Damn mosquitos.

I hopped out of the tent, the cool morning air smashing against my bumpy face. My vision grew blurry as I realized that, yes, thousands of mosquitos got a meal last night and yes, they did get to my face. I probably looked horrendous right now, but nonetheless, I had to find my parents and force them to let me leave. Because as you might already know, I hate the wilderness. I may have mentioned it a few times. Maybe once or twice.

I looked at the rising sun that appeared to be hidden by large trees. The mosquitos would wake up any minute and again be hungry. I really need to find my parents.

I quickly walk away from the empty tent, nothing surrounding it except for our car which I certainly didn't have the keys to and it was parked miles away.

I stumble forward, scraping my probably already infected knee once again and drawing fresh blood. If the mosquitos weren't awake by now, they would be.

"Shit. Not again. Damn stupid box!" I shout into the empty nothingness of trees which I had been forced to go to.

And of course there was no reply. Not a sound, give for the birds suddenly tweeting to life and starting their morning voyage to kill the thousands of small vampires around. Good.

I picked up the rusted box that contained a small amount of my blood on one side of it. I may as well be a blood bag because all that is happening to me is that I'm losing more and more blood. Yeah, that's what I am. Joe the bloodbag. It fits.

I meander in the woods for several hours, the bug repellent having clearly worn off because it was a crappy cheap bottle that some idiot bought. I take a deep breath and it struck me.

Literally, some thorn that was strong enough to fit in my shoe tore through it and the sole of my foot was probably bleeding by now. Blood bag.

I was thirsty, completely and utterly thirsty and in desperate need of finding my parents and getting the hell out of this mess. I didn't want to be here in the first place. I ran a dirty hand through my hair, extremely hoping for a long hot shower. Better yet, a bath should suffice. I stumbled forward just as the sun was peeking over the large trees and awakening the blood suckers.

"Just keep walking Joe." I whisper to myself. Anything to encourage me. I quickly rush through the hoards of trees until I spot a bright light. One that seemed natural yet wasn't. I follow the light, aware that it may just be the sunlight reflecting on something.

I hobble forward, my jeans covered in dried mud and my shirt ripped. My hands had scratches set deep, I feared for a second that I may have tetanus.

But I would honestly rather die than be in the wilderness for another second.

Surely my parents wouldn't have just left me here in the middle of the night while I was passed out.

I hobbled forward, feeling the intense pain of the scar on my knee surge through my body.

Welcome to Pilgrimage Lane. Home of the Pumpkin Pie.

I saw a large wooden sign before I felt my body give out after a sharp stinging pain to the side of my head. I must have been hit.

¤¤¤

"Where do you think he is from? Is he a spy? Why is he dressed like that?" I couldn't figure out who the voices belonged to or even have a chance to open my eyes slightly. All I knew was that I did know where I was and that my parent were gone. Pilgrimage Lane. What kind of silly name is that for a modern-day city. They should have named it Mosquito-Infested-We-Will-Turn-You-Into-A-Bloodbag-In-Our-Damn-Woods City. I snickered at my own thoughts.

"Shh. . . he's waking up " A silky female voice says as my eyes begin to slowly open to reveal eight faces staring down at me.

There was an older man, about the age of my father and his beautiful young wife. They seemed to have an older daughter about a year younger than me and a son that appeared to be seven. There were also several other blue eyed daughters that this family owned and only one son. I can bet my life they kept trying to have that damn son. That's what my parents did and it worked out the first time. I'm grateful that I'm an only child.

"Where am I?" I ask. They all looked shocked, all eight pairs of eyes turn to look at me with their mouths hanging open and landing on the floor.

"He can speak English Dad!" The girl my age announced.

"Daddy can we keep him?" One of the younger girls asked with a hopeful voice.

"No, he could just be a well planned spy sent from Germany to invade us and learn our ways and. . ." The father began but was cut off with the same silky voice from before.

"Oh hush Henry, would a German spy be sent to our village dressed like that? The poor thing looks like he was sleeping on the forest floor all night."

She didn't know the half of it.

"Fine. We will wait until he wakes up to question him." The dad said before footsteps began moving around and I was left alone.

Alone in a room of shriveling candles and pumpkin scented everything.

https://www.amazon.com/Boy-Who-Read-Minds-ebook/dp/B08RYV11F2/ref=sr_1_3?dchild=1&keywords=veronica+Soliman&qid=1609863783&sr=8-3

(Link will be available in the coming weeks)

(Link will be available in the coming weeks)