Read Online Planet Urth by Jennifer Martucci, Christopher Martucci - Free Book Online Page B

will rest for eternity alongside Urthmen, monsters.  She deserved better than that.  I also regret that I spoke harshly to her and disobeyed her when I left the hut.  I never got to ask for her forgiveness.  Now it is too late. 
    A silent sob shakes my body and I hug my knees to my chest as tight as I can.  I breathe deeply, trying to calm myself until it passes, until the knot of pain inside me loosens enough for me to breathe.  I must hold myself together.  I must be strong.  I concentrate on relaxing every muscle in my body and breathe through my nose, sucking in air until my belly puffs out.  I blow it out in a thin stream through my lips, repeating the process until I feel more in control of myself. 
    I glance at June and see that she is still asleep.  She is unbothered by my crying seconds ago.  I am thankful for that. 
    I force myself to lie back down.  My eyes burn and I am thirsty, but I close my eyes and push both discomforts to the back of my mind.  Neither is of any consequence.  I remain still and rest until threads of light slip through the cracks of the boulder and another day of hunting begins. 

Chapter 6
     
    I doze on and off until light begins to spill through the openings around the boulder.  I am still shaken by the recurrent nightmare I had, by the past.  Time has not dulled the pain, and it has not ended the dreams.  They continue. 
    My mother is still on my mind.  Her death weighs on me with untold heaviness.  My throat constricts around the sadness that has collected there.  I sit upright, not wanting to be still a moment longer and risk crying.  I kick the covering from my legs and stretch.  My movements cause June to stir.  Her eyelids flutter then open groggily. 
    “Is it morning?” she asks, her voice thick and tired. 
    “It is morning,” I say and my own voice surprises me.  It breaks.
    June scrunches her features.  “Avery, what is it?  Are you okay?”
    I hate that I have alarmed her.  “I’m fine,” I lie and clear my throat.  “Must be the way I slept or something.  I sound like a frog, you know, a little croaky I guess.”
    “Are you sure?” June looks at me with eyes so wide and vulnerable, I almost feel guilty for lying.
    “I’m fine,” I say and smile.  “But if it keeps up, I might be forced to leave the cave and find myself a sweet, deluxe lily pad,” I narrow my eyes and tease her.
    She laughs.  The sound is just what I need.  Her laughter is delightful.  “Hmm, that might work.  But I am sorry to say you wouldn’t cut it as a frog.”
    “I wouldn’t?” I ask with pretend surprise.  “And why not?”
    June’s eyes sparkle mischievously.  “Well, for starters, you hate the smell of pond scum,” she begins counting on her fingers.
    “You’ ve got me there,” I confess.  “I do find it extra stinky.”
    “Second, y ou hate eating bugs.” She marks her comment with her middle finger, tallying the second reason, then grins, proud of her clever remark. 
    “That is a fair comment. I find bugs as meals revolting.” I nod somberly as if she has clobbered me with her points. 
    “And lastly,” she continues.
    “Sheesh!  There’s more!” I throw my hands in the ai r then clutch my head and bow with feigned defeat.
    “And lastl y,” she says again with a stern look.  “You don’t even like frogs.  You can’t be something you don’t even like.  You have to like yourself.”  She nods her head.  She looks satisfied with all that she has said.  “So, no lily pad for you,” she concludes.
    I clasp my hands together and interlace my fingers.  “Well , that settles it,” I say gloomily.  “I guess you’re stuck with me.  Lily pads are not in my future.”
    June throws her head back and giggles.  Her laughter is contagious and I find myself smiling just before a small laugh slips past my lips. 
    “Come on, silly girl.  It’s time to get up and start our day,” I tell her.
    I stand and stretch