(WIP)

Rupert Parker was lost, to begin with. There was no doubt whatever about that. Young Rupert was as lost as a ghost in a fog.

His feet slipped over a patch of ice on the cobbled street and a sharp pain shot up his wrist when he tried to cushion his fall with his hands. Awkwardly he tried to stand up again, his limbs stiff from the cold, but gave up halfway, hugging his knees for a bit of self-comfort and the illusion of warmth.

He couldn’t tell how much time had passed since he had left his mother’s house in a hurry, leaving his warm fur-trimmed winter coat and gloves behind in his haste to flee the tense atmosphere. He had only come home from boarding school earlier that day and had been looking forward to spending the holidays at home but Mother had been in one of her moods.

He hadn’t intended to go far or stay out long, of course, just far enough for Mother’s voice to be inaudible and long enough for his nerves to calm down. He had walked down the street swiftly, head down, eyes cast to the ground, and turned a corner and then another and another in order to avoid being seen and called back. Mother’s voice had refused to leave his thoughts, booming down the hallway interrupting the soft voice of a man and the muffled sobs of a woman in the drawing room. Tennants, Rupert had assumed, begging for an extension of their lease.

He hadn’t noticed the cold seeping through his thin shirt and jacket or the fading of the lights until his body started to shiver. He had looked up then and found himself quite surprised at the twilight surrounding him in an unfamiliar part of the town. He had pulled his jacket closer and looked around to see if he recognized any of the buildings. They were smaller, somehow shabbier looking than the ones in Mother’s street but surely if he proceeded this way and around that bend, that should bring him right back to… no. He blinked confused at the river that lazily drifted along its banks in front of him.

He glanced back where he had come from. It was getting darker by the minute and there were no street lamps in this part of town. The buidings were only dimly lit and most windows had the curtains drawn as an extra layer of protection against the cold that Rupert started to feel more and more himself. Anyone sensible was probably safely tucked up behind those curtains and near a warming fire. Rupert couldn’t see a living soul anywhere and a feeling of unease had started to build up in his lower abdomen. No, everything would be alright.

Resolutely he took a step forward, when he had felt something brush against his ankle and then his foot had stepped on something weirdly soft and squishy. The high-pitched squeal and the scurrying movement towards the river made his blood drain from his face and he ran, ran, ran as fast as he could.

He didn’t stop running until a stabbing pain in his side forced him to slow down. He was all too aware that now he had no idea where he was but the thought of turning around and facing another rat made his stomach revolt and he heaved. After a while he stumbled on for a lack of alternative until that frozen puddle literally brought him to his knees. He winced in pain as his kneecaps hit the hard earth.

He knew it was a bad idea to just sit there on the ground but he felt tired, so tired. Snow had started to fall and was beginning to cover the street like a blanket. Rupert could feel the wetness on his face but couldn’t tell if it was snow or his own tears. He buried his face between his knees and closed his eyes. Just for a moment. Only one short moment, he would rest his eyes.

Part 2