Chapter 33: Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Sansa's Pov

I was running like a prisoner given the opportunity to escape, like a bird flying away freely without the cage, without any direction but with hope.

That was like a game of hide and seek for me because I was looking for a way out and it was hidden. I didn't look back; that girl in the red gown was a performer at my wedding reception. She was doing strange moves, but everyone liked her performance.

She was the girl from the mountain, and she arrived with the other girls when the elders were invited to meet the bride and groom.

When I first came to the mountain, I noticed her smiling at me; she was innocent and had a pure heart.

I suspected something was wrong with her because she was desperate for assistance when I left her alone to survive.

My speed in finding a way out increased, but my mind was only running from her thoughts.

"Help me," she said, and it broke my heart. I felt bad for her.

I came to a halt to catch my breath because I was sweating in the cold, and the guilt of leaving her behind was making me anxious.

I turned back twice, but my guts wouldn't let me when my heart was telling me to break free from the guilt.

As my attention shifted to that girl, I was aware that if I continued my search for a way, I would fail my mission. I considered running back to her for a moment more.

I noticed a line of blood drops on the ground as I looked for her after she had vanished, and I briefly followed the blood drops.

My attention was drawn to her in the distance. As blood dripped from her body, she was unable to walk. Her messed-up hair was giving the impression that she was a ghost from a cemetery. As I watched her miserable situation, my soul shivered.

both at the same time. I was fighting with myself, and the mountain of questions was becoming too much for me. There was no going back to the mansion; one small mistake could cause a slew of big problems.

When the mansion's entrance was locked at night, where would I take her? Being there with her may cause many of them to have doubts, which may alert them. No, returning to the mansion was not an option at that time.

What would I do with her? That was the real and most pressing question I wanted to know the answer to.

She was attempting to avoid collapsing while her frail body was swinging. She had no energy to walk any further. I embraced her as she collapsed because I was afraid and sad for her at the same time.

She was unconsciously laying down as I gently supported her body on the floor. I was scrutinizing every part of her body.

I rolled up her gown's sleeves, and there were old and new scratch marks on her wrist. I was about to explore further, but she held my hand. My heart began to race.

I became hesitant, but she held on softly, her body temperature being as cold as ice at the time. I was waiting for her eyes to open to see if they were white or still normal when her grey eyes opened. She moved her lips slowly, attempting to speak. I leaned in close to her mouth.

"Help," Before falling completely unconscious, she whispered.

I knew looking around would be pointless because the only option I could think of was the mansion.

I grabbed her wrist and drew her closer to my back while sitting on my feet. I was able to carry her on my back.

My steps were searching for a way back to the mansion because I couldn't save her alone when she desperately needed proper help.

As I made my way, I was taken aback to see a tree house. I started climbing the ten stairs before releasing her from my back and placing her in the corner against the railing that connected the stairs.

I was pushing the door inside, trying to open it at any cost, but I was losing all of my strength in the process. I didn't want to abandon the last hope, but I did.

My foot hurt when I kicked the door so hard in anger. As I was about to lose my balance, I grabbed the door handle and pulled out, but the door seemed to open smoothly, and I fell.

I entered the dark tree house, which was neat and clean, with a small wooden table and one chair in front of the window through which the moonlight passed.

The lamp gave the room a cozy, homey vibe by sitting next to the bed on the side table. the feeling of warmth on a cold night.

I carried her back and placed her on the single bed. I found a small towel in the closet and began cleaning the blood from her body.

Her back was covered in old, deep scars, which I examined alongside the new and old scars. She likely saw a lot; she needed a strong heart to deal with all the pain she had gone through, and the scars on her back revealed stories she had not told.

After cleaning her, I wrapped her in a blanket to keep her warm because her pulse had returned to normal by that point.

Now the battle in my head began. I couldn't go back to the mansion; what if they saw evidence of my fleeing already? What if I still have the opportunity to return?

I needed to double-check before abandoning the girl, as I had postponed my mission to escape that night.

I left a note for her on the table before leaving her alone in the tree house.

"You are safe here; I will return to check on you; you should rest instead of fleeing."

I made my way back to the mansion, satisfied that no one had been alerted at the time. I was removing the evidence by climbing back up onto my balcony.

I couldn't stop thinking about the girl and my escape all night. I couldn't abandon her because the guilt was overwhelming me. I couldn't get away because I gave up when I couldn't find a way out.

The next morning, after breakfast, I was walking on the lawn outside the mansion, trying to time my visit to the tree house to check on the girl when most of the eyes were on me.

I started walking through the jungle when I realized I had the best chance. It was difficult for me to locate a tree house.

She was pleading for assistance; who would have done that to her? Why was she so terrified? Something wasn't right. I considered seeking additional assistance for the girl, but I kept my distance from everyone.

She was already gone when I entered the treehouse. The Girl from the Mountain was not present; everything remained as it had when I first visited the tree house.

My hand slowly reached into my coat pocket, pulled out the pistol, and turned back, aiming the pistol at the person who had followed me all the way there.