Our Heart - The Greatest Showman {Book 2 of "One Heart"}

Chapter 6

Lizzy's Pov 

I left the house for the first time in three days, walking out into the fields of forest. I told Charity that I was going for a walk, but we both knew that wasn't completely true. But she let me go, she had some sixth sense that could tell whenever someone needed space or comfort. 

I hiked into the forest, following a path I had made for myself. In the forest the sky vanishes almost completely, only a few fragments of blue remain- like scattered pieces of an impossible jigsaw puzzle. The air is rich with the fragrance of leaves and loam, damp too. Even so many hours after the rains have passed, the soil remains wet, slowly releasing its heady fog. Outside is the noon daylight, the powerful rays of early summer, but in here everything is cool and the colours have the softness of that time just before twilight. The only movement is the occasional bird, startling in a tree or a squirrel dashing up a nearby trunk. The sound of running water in the brook has the same hypnotic quality as music, I want to stop just to drink in the sound. The huckleberries are mostly red, tart but with just the right amount of sweetness. I take in all the air my lungs will hold and expel it slowly. These hikes in the forest are like a trip out of my life, a visit to somewhere the measuring of time is done only by the rising and setting of the sun. 

I passed the stump of the tree that had tied a red ribbon on previously, telling me where about I was going. I knelt down next to the tree, my brown over dress sweeping the ground graciously, as I pulled the set of bow and arrows I had stashed away. It was something I had found comfort in, somehow. It allowed me to clear and organise my thoughts, or attempt to. 

After wrapping the quiver around my waist, I continued to walk along the path of twigs and rocks I had made until I was at the target I had made from an old piece of timber. The bow was crafted of flexible, slender yew wood and wound around the grip was dyed red rawhide. I pulled an arrow out and placed it gently onto the bow, pulling the string back. I took a deep breathe, allowing the world to stop for a few seconds before I let go. It curved and flew in the air until it landed on the left side of the board. 

Hey, I never said I was any good at it.  Just said I enjoyed it.

I continued to put arrows into the target, well most of them, until I eventually got bored of my thoughts and sat down. Laying on the ground to look at the patches of cloud. 

I guess I could go back to the circus, I mean their is no longer a problem with my physical ability so to speak. But I don't even know if I want to or if I could. I'm scared to see if my feet have forgotten how to walk along the tight rope or to see if my hands can hold onto the trapeze bar. 

And then everyone is going to be trying to comfort me about Phillip all the time. I mean, I love them and all but I don't want to feel like I'm drowning in Pity 24/7. 

If I am completely honest sometimes when I'm lonely I sit and think about him. And it hurts to remember all the good times,When I thought I could never live without him.And I wonder does it have to be the same Every time when I see him in my dreams or memories or every time someone brings him up, will it bring back all the pain?

But it's weird, I know that he is gone. Yet, Anne kept telling me that she thinks he is alive. And a part of me is beginning to think it might be true. 

God, what on Earth am I going to do?