Hey, Feral!
Willow would keep to herself, earning new nicknames every time a new round of abuse would be dished out. What received her a good beating was her lack of accepting defeat. Whenever she got the chance, Willow would fight. She had bitten off the fingers of people trying to grab her, pushed people to the ground, cracking their skulls wide. Every girl knew not to mess with her.
Except one new one.
She felt like a deranged dog, abused and ready to kill anything that touched her. Willow knew she looked like one too, cowering underneath her make-shift blanket that she made from tearing her clothes in half.
Winter was coming quick, and they were failing to hand out coats. Many girls, who didn't die from birthing the children that would end up dead anyways, would freeze to death. Willow managed to keep her body heat trapped in a never ending circulation. She wasn't warm, but she wasn't on the brink of death from frostbite.
It was quiet, the only sound being hail that was hitting the roof high above them. Willow kept her corner secure for the entire half a year she was in there, almost rarely moving except to defend herself and get more food for her stock. It was like feeding a furnace. She stocked up for winter whereas the girls were eating scraps and almost started to resort to cannibalism to survive. A game of survival that Willow was winning.
On a particular cold night, someone nudged her. Willow knew of her reputation, so she wondered if they were trying to lure her out to steal her food. She looked over her arm, noticing a soft face with pretty, curly hair. This new girl had soft brown eyes, which Willow found odd considering that her hair was a dark red, almost burgundy with lighter red and brown highlights. She seemed like she had come from a good home and had just arrived.
"You're shivering." The girl said, crouched before Willow.
"No shit." Willow hissed.
The girl slowly removed her layer of jacket. Willow debated on attacking her to get it but restrained when she noticed how she began to hand it to her. She shook her head.
"N-no. You need it." Willow shook her head slightly, pulling her legs closer to her body. The new girl insisted with her motion.
"I don't, trust me. No offense, but you're skin and bones." Willow glanced down at her leg, noticing that her days of starvation had depleted any muscle mass she had gained from her sports. It lasted her a long time, long enough to where Willow could have a complete stock of food to last for the winter in case her captors forgot- as they often did.
"Thanks..." Willow said awkwardly, grabbing the jacket.
"Do you mind if I sit?" The new girl asked.
Willow paused, glancing her up and down. Now, she was realizing how much older this girl seemed. At first, it was too difficult to see, but she soon realized this girl had the body of a full grown woman- if not a young woman. This girl's face was a diamond shape, her jaw sharp, her arms strong and beefy. Willow noticed how large she actually was and began to feel frightened.
If you want to fight, I'm not winning.
"What do you want?" Willow asked shakily.
"I don't want anything. I just want a place to sit." The girl explained, her voice eerily calm. Like a trained soldier in combat, or a stealthy assassin who was always prepared to kill. Willow nodded, still trembling, growing afraid of this new girl as she slowly sat down next to her.
Willow took in this new girl's muscle mass, her jaw almost dropping at the fact that she seemed to be in incredible shape. Her hair was tied back into a tight ponytail, letting a few strands of her bangs hang down on the side of her toned face. Willow was sure there was not an ounce of fat on this girl- that she was only made out of pure muscle.
"Why sit next to me?" Willow asked, looking up at her eyes. The girl let her head fall back, resting against the wall.
"Why not? Girls here are scared of you." She flashed a grin, which revealed the sharpest canines Willow ever saw. Despite the horrifying qualities of her smile, Willow felt a sudden comfort in the way she smiled- like a cocky athlete who knew their worth.
"They call you 'feral'." She added on. Willow sheepishly nodded.
"Why is that?" As if to remember how it happened, Willow's eyes tracked down to the spot she saw her captors drag the girl's body away. She wasn't punished, not how she thought she would be. It was a free-for-all in their cage, and Willow was on her own even though some girls banded together. There was a lot of blood as they dragged her. Willow took note of how pale she was and she wasn't moving. She didn't move for a long time.
"I..." It wasn't realization that was stopping her, it was the sudden fear that this new girl might become deathly afraid of her and team up against her. Every alliance Willow would try to make in the future was severed when she hurt that girl and got her nickname.
"You don't have to tell me." The girl said calmly, seemingly cool with her situation.
"But... if you don't mind me asking, what's your name?" The girl asked. Willow couldn't look at her. There was a moment where she had to think.
Has it really been that long? All that came to her mind was her nicknames that were blurted out by terrified girls to try and tease her.
Then, it came to her.
"Willow... Willow Schafer." The girl nodded.
"What's yours?" She heard her huff, saw her close her eyes.
"Trisha Knott." She said. Willow nodded gently.
"People just call me Trish." She explained. Willow tilted her head.
"Why?"
"Trisha sounds too bitchy." Willow scoffed a laugh, feeling the smallest upturn of her lips.
"How long have you been here?" Trish asked, raising an eyebrow, her eyes soft.
"I don't know." Willow said, hopelessness creeping into her voice. Trish frowned, eyebrows furrowing.
"Last date I remember was May 17th. It was a Monday." Willow seemed to hold onto the seemingly useless memory of writing the date on her paper, at first dreading the school day. She would've rather dread school than be in the space she was in now.
"What year?" Trish asked, her tone finally touching solemnness. Willow seemed to think, almost feeling her hand writing the date out fully.
"2038." Trish nodded slowly, mouth falling open. Willow glanced up at her, noticing how she seemed to look at her own lap, almost as if realizing something that sparked anger.
"How old are you?" Willow huffed gently at Trish's question.
"I think I'm 14." Trish softly put her hand down.
Willow moved her leg away, watching her carefully. Trish retreated her hand, the sadness in her eyes almost making Willow want to cry. She knew the news Trish was about to tell her wasn't going to be good.
"Is it past New Year's?" Willow asked, suddenly going to her family. What pained her most was that they had to go into the new year without her, unknowing if she was still alive. Trish stared at her for a long moment. Then, she slowly nodded, gulping back any pitiful apology. Willow huffed, curling her lip, letting her head hit the back wall.
"It's almost been a year." Trish muttered solemnly. Willow turned her head away, muttering to herself.
"I'm sorry, Willow."
"Don't be. Some girls have been in here two times longer than I have." Willow managed shakily, trying to speak through the incoming tears.
"Doesn't mean the unnecessary time you've served is invalid." Trish said. She shook her head, beginning to turn, shielding and adjusting the piles of food she had hidden underneath two layers now.
"It'll be over soon." Trish said, a bit of optimism hidden in her voice. Willow glanced back, her eyes tired, the bright blue color of a hopeful child now faded into a gray.
"How do you know?" Willow asked groggily, hoping that she could get back to sleep so she could pass the time faster. Trish managed a smile. A smile that brought back the small flicker of hope Willow once had.
"Trust me. I just know."
YOU ARE READING
The Grean Household
Romance"It was a mistake..." She told her mother, folding her hands into each other. "Marrying him..." Her mother said nothing, she simply sat there as her only daughter stood across from her, on the verge of collapsing from bruised ribs and cracked shins...
