XVI

                                    

                                          
I fumbled in the dark, reaching for the pill bottle, my stomach sinking at its weight. As the weeks had gone by, my already small medication supply was dwindling at a fast rate. If I took a pill for every little time I got anxious, than I'd probably be out by the end of the week.
                          
"Okay, shit." I stared into the open bottle, the white lid tightly clenched in one hand, bottle in the other as I contemplated.
                          
" I don't need it. I'm okay. I don't need it." I tried to convince myself, whispering in the dark. Though, as reassured myself that I didn't need it, the longer I started the small pills, the more I seemed to need it. I needed to separate myself from them, in order to preserve them for when they are actually needed, not just to calm me now over normal anxiety.
                          
I fumbled with the bottle, the pills rattling against the hard plastic as I failed to put the lid back on. The tremble of my hands was the main contribution to my inability to function normal and place the cap back on. I was growing sick of that stupid tremor that always seemed to be there and just place the container and the lid on the table. 
                          
I kicked at the sheets constricting my body, my legs tangled up in them. I was careful to avoid stepping on the blankets on the floor, not wanting to slide and fall, waking everyone up. My bare feet padded along the floor, nervous that even that noise would stir my hosts. 
                          
She even made it a point to hold her breathe as she walked down the stairs, which helped slow her heart rate down, the pounding minimizing to just a quicken beat. She pausing at every creak and groan of the wood. Her last intention was to disturb them in any way but she needed to be outside, the walls causing a feeling of restriction and confinement.
                          
I opted to use the back door, for the dogs would start barking if I went out the front. The constant state of the doors being unlocked still unsettled me but they were right, there was no one out here to barge in the house unwelcome. I just wasn't particularly fond to the idea of such openness and trust towards unknown beings. You never know what people are capable of doing, even ones you know.
                          
The back light was already on, illuminating the yard in a soft, yellow hue. The crisp air was cool against my clammy skin. The open, seemingly endless space lessened my feeling or restriction, my heart finally slowing down to an acceptable rate. Crickets chirping and owls hooting were carried into the night, creating a sound that led me to peace. 
                          
After a few moments of just staring into the nothingness that was beyond the light's reach, I scanned the closer land that could be seen. It was a beautiful piece of property, just needed a touch of work. Due to all this time in my hand because of lack of sleep, I decided that I needed to clean up the yard. It was my chance to reciprocate an act of kindness. It wasn't significant but it was at least something I could do. 
Kneeling down, I wasn't bothered by the dirt on my hands and knees as I pulled at the weeds. Though, while clearing underneath a bush, a thorn stabbed through the tip of my finger, slightly dampening my mood and sent a deep, throbbing pain through my index finger. A small drop of blood gather at the sight of penetration but I wasn't fazed by it and kept going, with more caution this time. I moved at an efficient but thorough pace, careful not to miss anything but fast enough to cover a lot of ground. 
                          
"Faylyn?" The voice was slow and soft but it startled her anyway.
                          
"I'm sorry." She felt as if she were getting caught doing something bad, a force of habit if you will, apologizing even when she wasn't doing wrong. She turned quickly, the large figure blocked the light so she instinctively back up. 
                          
"Are you alright? It's the middle of the night." He took a few steps towards her and into the light, casting into his face, Maverick's face.
                          
"I-I'm sorry." She repeated again. "Did I wake you?"

                          
He shook his head and waved his hand in a dismissing manor, a yawn preventing him from speaking at that moment. "Why don't you come inside? I was planning on making some tea but I would enjoy the company." He seemed to notice her hesitation because he spoke again. 
"It's rather late and you don't even need to do this. Besides, the mess will still be here in the morning if you really want to finish."
                          
I looked over the work I had done. A considerably large pile of weeds sat close to me, she had not a bag or trash bin to put them in. In the time she had been out here, she managed to clear everything along the house, about half of what needed to be done.
                          
"Okay but um," I glanced at the pile I made. 
                          
"You can just leave it there."
                          
"Okay, thank you." I said softly as I brushed the dirt off my hands as best as I could.
                          
"So uh, what kind of tea would you like?"