Most people figured I was closer to eighteen or even older when they saw me, and especially when they talked to me. I didn't sound or act like a norma... fifteen-year-old, but then again I hadn't lived much of a normal life growing up either.I wore simple clothes, nothing fancy, just some black denim pants with rolled up cuffs, pink Skechers with white ankle socks. A silver belt and a pink and black t-shirt with a big print of a woman crying, like in a comic strip. She had a little voice bubble. Withering, I tried not to let on as Naci moved off me.“Toman, husband,” she asked with a look of concern when I was wincing as I tried to make my feet. “You should rest a bit husband before we move again.”“No Naci did you happen to see who that was? The one I hit with several bolts when I took you over my shoulder?” I asked as I finally made my feet. Damn it I was sore ALL over!“No,” she replied. “I was watching you as you were flying toward me though, now that you mention it, the voice seemed. More

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