The Story of Us

Chapter 2:

It was September 30th, 2019; I remember it well – it was only a year ago after all. My issues with trapping food for the long Winter had not exactly been forthcoming. I had a good source of nourishment, but nothing that would sustain me through the long months ahead.

A survivalist with her hunting gun and her knife. When one fails, the other does not.

Unless you suck at shooting and the game is faster at running then you are. Which, you learn to be faster than the game if you accidently mistake a cougar – no, not an old lady looking for a twenty-something year old stud muffin. That's the wrong kind of cougar. I'm talking more of a big cute four pawed, three-hundred-pound mountain cat.

Do not under ANY circumstance mistake it for a goat like I did...they don't like being shot at and will let you know by running at you full force and try to eat you.

I believe I ran a record that day. One that has yet to be beaten by Guinness World Records...or so I believe.

This day was uneventful. I was at the stream that afternoon like always, catching a few fish for dinner. One for me, which I will have with some scrambled fresh laid chicken eggs and some homemade bread.

My cat is not exempt from her portion of course. I always bring back an extra fish for her.

That day, I was catching whatever I could. The snowstorm would hit soon and it was going to be a few days until it let up. Meaning, hunter girl here was going down under.

Not Australia – just staying underground in my cave. It was well insulated; had a fireplace build above the rock; which I made. It's like Peter Pan's hideout, only not as obvious.

The grey skies were rolling in, the cold winds blowing my hair back and digging its icy touch into the exposed flesh I had failed to cover up.

My home you ask? Well, it's in the most beautiful place you could imagine. The land is vast, the mountains are high and it's completely surrounded by nature and rock.

My 'home' happened to be located in a small crevasse of land in Beartooth Mountain. Which is in South Central Montana. Want directions?

Okay...if you walk until your feet fall off, you've gone too far. You will be in North West Wyoming and that is a tad bit too far. Come back fifteen or twenty miles.

Actually...you can probably reach North West Wyoming and still get it confused with Bear Mountain. It's all similar sights in these parts.

Of course, I wouldn't know for sure. I've never tried to leave Bear Mountain.

No reason to. I am happy with my beautiful isolation. People are a burden to society. Out here? I am free. I roam without constraint and above all? I am not judged. It is my perfect heaven. There is no reason to go back to a society that turned from me when I had needed it the most.

A song leaves in a hum through my pale-pink lips. I no longer remember what I had susurrated, just that it was out of tune. I'm no musician. Like before stated, I am a damn surgeon's assistant. Or as they so lovingly used to call me: a glorified nurse that gets to assist in gutting people open like a fish.

That one used to hurt you know? Now? Well, nothing bothers me anymore since leaving society without a trace. It also comes with getting thick skin. Figuratively and physically.

Oh! My name?

I never introduced myself did I? How rude! Well, My name is Bellerose Marie Tuilelaith. Quite the mouthful, I know. You should have heard what they used to call me in school. It led to many, many fights and many, many hospital visits for those who were brave enough to start shit with me over it.