Fina

Chapter Three- Hiding and Waiting

Chapter Three: Hiding and Waiting

The moon is slowly rising far off in the east, the stars one by one are peeking out and saying hello. The best I can tell, it is around 7 o’clock, my stomach is jumping, flipping around, knotting in walnut sized knots. Needless to say, yes, I am hungry. I climb up one last little hill, jump over another fallen tree and BAM! Right there is the burned out tree, black in the evening, and right behind that, my bed for the night. I am so relieved that I finally got here. No idea if anyone is even following me or not, or how close they are if they are, but I think I’ve gone far enough tonight don’t you think? Exhausted, hungry, and thirsty I walk into the cave to examine what is inside of it. If memory serves me, I panicked the first time I created fire in the palm of my hand, and ran out of the cave, leaving behind my bag which I never went back for. For all I know, it’s probably gone, taken by a wild animal a long time ago. I step in, the moonlight seeping through just enough for me to walk a little ways in. I laugh, slightly, under my breath because I see remains of what use to be my bag. Pieces of it here and there, pages of my journal scattered, torn, rotting. I wonder if my spark rocks are still here? I look around a little to try and find them, but do not succeed. They are not here as far as I can tell, but the temperature is dropping, and a chill is creeping in on my body. I give up on looking for the spark rocks and sit down against the wall of the cave, pulling a thick blanket out of my bag I wrap it around me and huddle into a ball trying to get warm, but it is to no avail. In no time, I am shivering cold. I wish I had a way to make some fire. Ok, I know, I’m stupid to say that. I do. I’m not comfortable using my powers very much, so I would rather not, I’ll freeze for a while, that’s fine with me.

My stomach growls, demanding food in it’s emptiness, so I pull some of the bread Cort packed for me and nibble on it just enough that I’m not hungry any more. It’s so good, my favorite bread, bread made with rice flour with rosemary and basil baked in. Now at least I’m not hungry. I can feel my body slowing down, getting more tired by the second. The full extent of my exhaustion hits me and I--.

I wake up the next morning, still tired and that gnawing pain in my stomach has returned. Time for more food I guess. I stand, my eyes and ears are still fuzzy from sleep, my senses are not so tuned right now. I turn to look outside, and see a light drizzle of rain.

“Wonderful.” I mutter under my breath. A chill has set in around, though it’s the morning, the rain is giving off a somewhat peaceful presence to the morning. Just as the rain is refreshing the land, the moisture seems to be refreshing myself. One thing still remains though, I am very hungry. I pick up my bag and eat some more of the bread, but that’s not sustaining enough, I will have to eat some of the dried meat too. By the time I finish my breakfast, the rain has stopped outside. I figure I might as well take advantage of this and go look for some more food. I wander out, cautiously of course, and look through the bushes for some berries, and the trees for nuts. Wow, I’ve become a scavenger living on nuts and berries. This sucks. I think I see a bush with some berries I am familiar with, I walk over to find a bush, glistening with the raindrops still suspended on the leaves. The berries, plump and mostly ripe pink and white berries. The name escapes me, but I remember them from school. They taste like a cross between a raspberry and a banana, as strange as that sounds, they are quite good. There is something else about them, but I don’t remember what it was, it’s not that they are poisonous, they are very edible. I need a bag to pile them into, but I don’t really have any extra bags with me, I’ll have to improvise. I go back to the cave and dump out one of my bags, hidden with in the mixed up pile of clothes I find a shawl that I had thrown into the bag. I pull out a hair band a tie off the bottom, then I head back out to the bush. In ten minutes I pick the bush over the best I can. I’d say I have a good gallon of berries in my shawl. I pick one out, just to be sure they are ripe and I didn’t just ruin a bush, and pop it in my mouth. The outside is very tough and rubbery, but as I bite down on it with my molars it finally burst open in a soft mushy sweet but tangy goo. It’s just as good as I remember it on “Try This” day at school. I’ll still have a diet of fruit and nuts, but at least these I won’t tire of. The outside is quite tough though, and after a few I find it hurts my jaw to eat a number of them. I just remembered something else about them, if you boil them, the skins peel away and float to the surface. That reminds me of something else, I’m really thirst. The berries provide me with little liquid and I’m craving a good swig of water right now. The problem is, I don’t know how. This is all so frustrating! I’m out in the cold, I’m hungry, I’m thirsty, all I want is to be home in my bed with the blankets pulled up to my nose and a nice fire flickering in the fireplace. But I can’t, because of this stupid “Gift,” and my inability to control it. I really am like fire aren’t I? I catch on anything that peeks my interest, I flourish if fed with enough sustenance and space, but back me in a corner, cut off my oxygen and I choke. Then I made stupid mistakes like burning Gahiji. I have a temper, which like a fire can destroy effortlessly, leaving my victims charred remains. That’s a part of myself I try hard to control, I don’t like to let my anger get the best of me. Unfortunately, I can feel it whelming, boiling in my stomach, my hands tremble with resentment, irritation at my situation. I lash out at the bush and smack it hard with my hand, the stinging appears with in nanoseconds. Closing my eyes, I count in my head, trying to calm down. When I am finally calm I open my eyes. What! This is so weird, I look down at the bush I just assaulted, and there is a burn mark against the leaves. I lean in, I can smell the singed leaves, though not burning, they were burned. My fury, had materialized as I hit the bush, and with just the sweep of my hand, the intensity of my anger was enough to spark against the leaves and create enough fire to burn, but not engorge it. This just frustrates me more, why can’t I control myself, stupid, stupid, stupid. I just pick the bag of berries up and run back to the cave. As I near it I let the berries fall to the ground next to my stuff, I flop down on my blanket and stare up at the ceiling of the wall, Arms out to my side, legs strait forward.