She stood with her back to the wind, looking around. This was the place she'd found herself. After eight years, she now stood looking to the place she had been living for awhile. She crept through the chain link fence, much like she had before. The place gave her the chills, but this was worth it. It was time to relive it and start healing. Her past was sorrowful, but it was time to face it. The small lot was covered in tall, dying grass, with various odds and ends of whatever people through over the fence. The house was zaidi of a shed, rundown, and boarded up tightly. But there was enough room for her to slip through in the broken chimney. The smell of dust and blood filled her senses and she wanted to run away. But this wasn't the time to do so. Her hand brushed on the floor before she stood and looked at the little hideout.
One one ukuta stood a little oven, old and broken, yellowing with age. Beside it was a crate that had been her meza, jedwali for years, a plastic, broken plate on the floor. The remains of what had been a sink were still hanging to one side, water slowly dripping to the molding floor. There was a cardboard box on the other side of the room, tattered blankets and newspapers making up her bed. This had been her nyumbani of two years. Animal remains and droppings littered the floor and mantle of the fireplace. Taped up on the ukuta kwa her old kitanda was a very faded photograph of a little girl with a huge smile.
Seeing the picture of herself made her sad; that girl knew nothing beyond the salama boundaries of her family. She sighed softly, looking at the sad remains of what she last remembered. This was where her life had started, where all her memories ended. She could faintly remember people, her parents, her brother. But beyond that, she had no recollection of anything before her life here. She had wandered the house when she was younger, the first time she'd been there, and remembered finding nothing. But now able to use her instincts and powers efficiently, she could smell another scent, one that had her mind reeling. Flashes of what could have been broken memories flooded her senses and she swayed for a minute. After everything slowed, she quietly moved to look through the rooms. They both were emptied, remains of what the house had once been.
“Hello there, kitty cat.”
A deep voice caused her to turn quickly, readying herself. A boy stood there. His raven hair framed his face and his piercing dhahabu eyes stared at her. His skin was a light mizeituni, mzeituni color. And he had cat ears and a tail, onyx like her own.
“You've grown up quite nicely, I must say.”
She looked at him.
“D-do I know you...?”
He smiled, something akin to the smile of a Cheshire cat.
“You will. I'm here to help. You're looking for family, yes?”
Her moyo raced.
“Do wewe know them?”
That smile again.
“Do wewe want to find them, kitten?”
“Then come with me. I'll lead wewe home.”
The Stranger