Where Is Home?

Among the blinding darkness through the gusty trees, I crouched on the floor, not making a sound. The wind was thick and cold, sending shivers down my spine. I had no coat, no jacket, and my shoes were strewn somewhere on the hill where I had been walking.
My shirt was torn and I could feel grit on my back. I carefully stood up, my breath shaking. There was nothing I could make out, though I knew there were trees somewhere.
I took a steady step forward. More mud. Another step. Still nothing.
More steps forward. Everything was fine. As my confidence grew that I was safe, my steps quickened. Next thing I knew, I was face down in grass, whimpering and groaning.
I sat up and felt around me. I came across something - a smooth surface. I gripped it with my shivering hands. It felt like...
There was a beaming yellow light shining out across a muddy clearing. The plastic was cracked but it didn't affect the light. The light was so blinding, but soon my eyes adjusted and I could walk around peacefully, seeing everything ahead.
I had no sense of direction. My home was far, and any friend or relative was out of the question. There was nothing I could do until dawn.
After walking several miles and not getting anywhere, I sat down by a tree. It was old and withered, with rotting leaves in piles on the ground. I nestled down, turned off the torch and lay silently. There would be no hope of sleeping, there never was, so all night, I stayed awake, daydreaming, thinking and wondering.
The sky was ablaze when I woke up. There were ambers and golds swirling in the morning sky. There was a pool of coral pink set at the horizon. The sun was slowly rising, setting a path through the sky. It was time to get up.
My heart was beating steadily under my shirt, in slow, peaceful motions. I had my torch in my hand, swinging it carelessly around my wrist. The torch was small, only about 4 inches tall, and black. There was a small yellow switch on the side. The plastic at the top was cracked down the sides and there was one lightning strike through the middle. I would fix that soon.
There was a bush to my right as I walked. It was only a small bush, but it brimmed with fresh, ripe blackberries. They were tempting, and I was hungry. I reached and started collecting some, putting them into my empty bag. They barely covered the bottom, but it didn't matter.
The bag began to fill up. I decided to collect all of them. They would keep me going for a week or so. While I walked. After all, there was nobody else who would take them.
I walked around to the other side of the bush. Still brimming with blackberries. I picked them, throwing them in, crouching lower as I got to the bottom.
I heard something from the bush. I took my hand away from the blackberries and took a step back.
Hello, I called anxiously. Silence. Was I imagining things?
I knelt down and crawled over to the bush. There was a small gap. I peered through, and saw someone crouching in the corner, looking terrified.
Hello, I whispered.
The person turned and looked at me. I smiled weakly. It was only a little girl. Her clothes were crumpled and dirty, her shoes thick with mud.
I squeezed through the gap and crouched with her. She remained utterly silent.
Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you.
She blinked at me.

Who are you, she asked.
Kate, I replied, who are you?
May.
Like the month?
Yes.
Okay.

We sat in silence, looking through the small gaps in the bush. There was sunlight coming through, making patterns on the floor.

Would you come with me, I asked.
Maybe.
Are you scared of me?
I don't know you.
I won't hurt you.
I know.
Please.
Let me think.
Why?
Where will you go?
Home.
Where's that?

I sighed, looking her in the eye.

I don't know.

She considered this, then slowly, she reached out her hand.

I'll come.
Thank you.
Let's go. We have to go.

Slowly, I made my way out of the bush and soon after, May pushed through.

Which way, She asked.
This way.
Are you sure?
I think so.
Okay, this way then.

We walked along, hand in hand, what seemed like a path. It was a warm day. The mud was sticky and hard to walk through.
I knew we wouldn't get anywhere. May didn't.

What's home like?
What?
What's home like, she repeated.
Happy. Warm.
I'm warm. And happy.
This isn't home.
No.
Home is safe.
Oh.
Are you safe?
Now I am, with you.

I didn't reply. There was nothing to say. May didn't know what home was like, but I did. Home was home, and nothing compared to it.
There was a gate, a few hundred yards ahead of us. A gate always leads to something, I thought.

Stop walking so fast, May said, pulling me back by the shirt.
There's a gate!
Yes, there is.
Are you coming?
Is it home?
Maybe.

Her face lit up. We got to the gate and I pushed. It was locked.

Can we climb over it, she asked.
I think so.

We climbed over. May got stuck on the top, so I told her to jump. She wouldn't. I held her on the waist and brought her down. She took my hand again.
There was a concrete path leading on through the woods. Most of the trees were cut down, leaving just small stumps on every side. The trees stopped altogether.
There were houses. Hundreds of identical houses lined up, which white walls and grey roofs.

Is this home, May asked.
No.
Why not?
Do you feel safe?
No.
Then it isn't home.
Where is home?
Somewhere.

The streets were empty. There were no cars or people or animals.

We'll walk down here, I said.

We walked down slowly. The houses were beautiful. Most were three stories, with stained glass windows and large hanging baskets filled with flowers. I walked over and picked out a yellow rose. I tucked it behind May's ear. You could see it clearly in front of her dark hair.
She walked over to another basket and picked out a rose. It was deep red. I tucked it behind my ear. She giggled softly.
The road was long and tiring. Each house grew so identical we felt as though we were passing the same house hundreds of times.

How old are you, I asked. May was very petite, and I hadn't noticed before
Five.
That's young.
Is it?
Yes.
How old are you?
Thirteen.
What's that?
Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen.
I can only count up to ten.
Oh.

I was shocked. I had been able to count up to fifty by the time I was four.
I decided I would help her. After all, she came with me.

We got to a park. It was only small, but it had the classic swings, slides, see-saw and tunnels you would get in any other park. I took May by the hand and ran along with her to the metal gate. We went inside. I could smell cigarette smoke and earth. The perfect park smell. May was uncertain, but I was determined to show her that it was good.
I pushed her on the swings. She said she felt sick. I took her to the see-saw. She said she felt giddy. I took her to the slides. She said they were too steep. I took her to the tunnel. She crawled through. She smiled at me.

There was something about the park that seemed familiar. The way the tunnels were so hidden, deep under the ground. They were tall and wide, so even I could crawl through. It make me feel safe. It was as though my home was near.

May, are you ready to go?

No answer. My voice echoed through the tunnels. It was dark. Suddenly I was terrified.

May!
I'm here!
Thank God. Stay there.
Okay.

I crawled through quickly, scraping my palms against the rough surface. I bumped into May. She shone the torch.

I like it here.
So do I.
I feel safe here.
Me too.
I'm happy.
I'm happy too.
We have food.
Yes.
These houses are empty.
Why don't we go there?
They're scary.
...Yes.
It's like they're haunted.
They're not.
But everyone is dead.
Except us.
Yes.
I will get food from there.
And blankets.
And blankets.
Kate... Can we live here?
Right here?
Yes. In this tunnel.

I smiled and held her close to me.

Yes.
Is this home?

I paused and took a deep breath, feeling guilty. My home was a small cottage, in a small village where everyone was friendly and we all helped each other. Now, I was with the little girl who wanted to live in a tunnel in a park. It was ludicrous.

Yes. This is home.

But somehow, everything seemed better, no matter how ludicrous. It was May, me and this tunnel under the ground. Home.