Bardolf slides right out the door just as he had figured he should have done years ago on that night. He did not know where he was going. He had not been out of the orphanage since the day he was brought into this hell hole. As Bardolf ran away, he saw a drunkard standing under a streetlamp looking at him in terror. Bardolf was covered in blood and completely transformed. All he knew was he wanted to kill, and he wanted blood. Bardolf ran to this man and attacked him. This man looked like an easy kill just as John had been. Bardolf noticed the bags under his eyes that screamed exhaustion. The man’s suit was crumpled and sloppy. Bardolf was as sloppy with his attack as this man’s suit was. He came up from behind and was pushed off immediately by the man. He hit the ground and made eye contact with his victim. Bardolf lunged again, but he did not have much strength. He was severely malnourished.

The man punched him in the face, and with such disdain muttered "Freak. Get the hell outta’ here before I call the cops and you are sent to a rat infested institution.” Before Bardolf could stand he received a parting gift from this stranger. One swift kick to his stomach and another to the groin. Bardolf was in pain and winded. He could not stand for a while. In the dead of night under the moon, he lay there not knowing what to do. No passerby’s to assist him, and his cravings were coming in stronger and harder. He was completely alone on the street.

When Bardolf stood, he started to walk down the street. He found a meat packing plant, and he smelt blood. Bardolf went in and for the first time in as long as he could remember he had a feast. There were lambs, pigs, and cows everywhere. He had his fill. He doesn’t remember ever eating this good. He had a tongue, intestines, stomach, and liver. Bardolf still had his wits about him, and he knew that he had to get out of there before he was caught. Bardolf ran out of the plant just as fast and as hard as he did when he left the orphanage. He was unsure of his surroundings. He heard a man shout at him recognizing the outfit Bardolf was wearing. The outfit was a filthy white tank top, burlap pants, and no shoes. Bardolf did not stop. He kept running.

As Bardolf ran, he noticed that there were less and fewer buildings. As the buildings were growing farther apart, the trees were growing closer and closer. There was a familiarity about his surroundings. He knew that if he kept on this path he would run into a quaint cottage. He knew he was home. A calmness had come over Bardolf that he had not felt in years. He was not sure how much further he needed to travel, but he did not care, he felt safe.

Bardolf saw in the distance a small lake that he remembered playing in as a little boy with his siblings. He remembered how silly his dad would be. His dad would try to hide under water and scare the kids by grabbing their legs. Bardolf would always scream and cry. His mother was always there to comfort him.

His favorite memory was the summer that the leeches invaded the lake. Dad was outside poking holes in old cans. He said that he was going to trap them. He said that worms would crawl into the can, and the leeches would soon follow. Dad would say the leeches were so dumb that they knew how to get in but not how to get out. Dad and Bardolf built stilts that had been made out of pieces of broken trees that were tied together with twine as tight as dad could get. The two would walk around the pond dropping the homemade traps. Bardolf has yet to feel as accomplished and as loved. Even as they pulled the weeds from around the perimeter, he did not feel as if it was a form of punishment but as a form of bonding that he felt he would never relive in his life.

As Bardolf starts to walk towards the pond, he sees a cottage in the distance that he remembered and loved so. Even though the place was run down and unkempt his heart swelled when he saw the name engraved above the door that was lovingly hung above the door many years ago from his great grandfather. “Wellspring.” What a beautiful sign it was. He was home and from a sense of calm came a sense of anxiety. When Bardolf walked through the doors, a wave of sadness and depression swept over him. He did not know what to do with these feelings. He felt like a raw nerve. He saw mothers stove and dad’s chair. He saw his brothers toys. He saw a family portrait. Bardolf walked inside, closed the door and laid on the floor. He did not cry. He laid on the floor with a broken heart not closing his eyes.

There was dried blood still on a couple of pieces of furniture. As Bardolf laid on the floor, he started to change back into a young man. He was naked and alone. He had a feeling of isolation, and he did not know which was worse. Coming home or living in the orphanage.

Next Chapter: The Independence