Not Enough to Judge...(Charlotte)

He looks at me briefly, as I stare back suspiciously.

Who is this guy?

I had to stand there in the rain for almost a full hour until Jason and Dad showed up that day. Together, they carried him back to our house and that's where he's been for the past two days. In Jason's old bedroom.

"Why're we taking him home!?" I had asked, horrified, "We don't even know him! Can't we just admit him in the hospital?"

I had hoped Jason would agree but he was too concentrated on carrying this stranger to our home.

"Too risky." Dad mumbled, "He has high fever. Plus the hospital is far off at the end of the town. I'll just call Kingsley for help."

Mr. Kingsley, was dad's friend and luckily a doctor. He told us it would be better to take the boy to the house and so that's what Jason and Dad did.

I was totally against it, obviously.

I mean, firstly we don't know him. So for all we know, he's a thief or something.

Secondly, what if he's tricking us? What if he isn't sick...

One look at his pale face and I know I'm wrong.

Ok...maybe he actually is sick and not pretending but who says he can't be dangerous?

The atmosphere is extremely awkward for a while, as I watch him fidget his hands on his lap. Looking scared and anxious, not knowing where he is. Who he is.

Looking like he was itching to get out.

But suddenly, his hazel eyes grow wide, bloodshot. Blood draining from his face. His hands grab his head, as he lets out a hurt groan.

Jason, quickly reaches for a glass of water but before he could take it, the boy stands up in one quick motion.

"Hey-" Jason yells, trying to grab hold of him but the boy pushes him with all his might, sending Jason crashing on the table.

"What the heck-!?" Emma screams, pressing herself on the wall, away from the door.

He looks at me again, ready to attack if i stand in his way. I shrug and step aside from the door.

"Look, kid," Jason tries to calm him down, "We're only trying to help..."

"Don't...need...help." The boy replies, panting with all the effort he had made, eyes darting at the door, now behind Dad.

"Let me....go!" The boy barks at him, his face red with anger.

Dad doesn't even flinch. He crosses his arms, clearly fed up.

"What is you name?" He asks.

About time someone asked that.

"Listen old man," He rasps, his legs shaking, but definitely not with fear considering how angry he looks. "I don't...have TIME to... ANSWER your stupid-"

"Old man?" Dad sneers, "Believe you, me, kid, if it comes to it, I'm not that old to loose to a fight with you. So just calm down and tell me your name."

"I...you-" He clenches his fists, looking down at the floor, "My...head..."

"You're sick." Jason explains, "We found you in the forest, in the rain-"

I scoff. He wasn't the one who found him. It was me. And i think Jason gets my message.

Because he rolls his eyes and says, "I'm sorry, I mean Charlotte found you."

He looks in my direction, but sees right through me, at a window.

"Don't even think about it." I mumble. "I know it doesn't look like it but it's a long way down and though you won't die, you'll get hurt for sure."

"Talking with experience, of course." Emma adds, sheepishly.

He gives another hesitant glance at me and then grits his teeth regretfully.

"I don't want...to stay here" He says in a low voice. "Please..."

Dad sighs, shaking his head, frustratingly. "Ok then. You can go."

The boy face beams with hope and for a split second he doesn't look like a thief. More human.

But the hope fades when Dad says, "But only when you get better. I don't expect you to tell me who you are or where you came from but the least you could do is get better." He lets a long silence to settle before adding sharply to himself, "You think I'd like to feel guilty wondering about a boy close to death who i could have helped but didn't?"

The stranger draws in a long breath, closing his eyes tightly, taking a good minute before exhaling. Finally he nods, somewhat unwillingly.

"Ok.."

"Good." Dad answers, "Now, your medicines are on the table right there. You can stay for as long as you'd like- which, by the looks of it, is probably not even going to last for a week. Stay in this room and rest- you'll get your food or whatever."

Dad frowns at us three, as if he had forgotten we were standing there.

He jerks his head outside, telling us it's time to leave.

So we do.

"Gladly." I say under my breath.

Suddenly, the four of us hear a soft voice, close to a whisper.

"Joey..."

"What?" Jason asks.

"My name." The boy replies, awkwardly staring at the floor. "My name is Joey."

Dad grunts, "Get some rest kid."

He shuts the door.

"That went...well?" Emma scowls.

I snort, "As if."

Jason takes a key from the shelf and locks the door.

"What are you doing?" Emma asks. "You can't just lock a person in."

"It's called safety." Jason responses, "We need to stay careful."

"It's not like he'll be able to get out with Roofus always on guard." I point out.

"Still," Dad says, "We can't be fooled. And anyway, you're the one who offered the suggestion about him being a thief."

I look at the door, remembering his regretful and anxious gaze.

I saw....hurt in his eyes.

Could he really be a thief?

A dangerous person?

He doesn't look like it now that I've seen him talking and moving.

Hell, I don't even know him. I know nothing but his name.

And that's not enough to judge him and his real self.

Not enough at all.

"Well," I say, scratching the back of my head, "I'm not so sure about that now."