The Alpha Female

TWELVE: CRIME SCENES

CHAPTER TWELVE: CRIME SCENES

            I stood in front of the plane of reflective glass that the humans called ‘a mirror,’ looking at my blue painted face and assessing the damage.  I had a large blue handprint on my thigh, where Mason had grabbed me to straddle me on the ground, which brought me back to the reality that what I was doing with this human was highly inappropriate.  Even though the painting had been for sport, he had gotten not only my thigh, a rather awkward place, but a few good hand prints on my bare belly as well.

            I let go of my shirt and sweatshirt, trying to hide the marks.  Somehow, only two faded prints had stained the sweatshirt, one on the pocket and the other on my back.  Other than that it still looked old and tattered, the cuffs faded to a dull pink, the ends frayed and now two pieces of fabric where it had once been one folded over. 

            Venting a sigh I turned and left the bathroom, pushing open the light swinging door and starting over to the table that Mason had grabbed for us.  He was busy stuffing his face with some kind of strange smelling meat, a meat that smelled just as the exotic meat that they had thrown in my cage had.

            “What is this?” I questioned as I fell into my seat.

            “A number one.” He pushed the tray over to me and I picked up the number one wrapped in a thin layer of paper.

            “A number one…” I muttered, unwrapping it and giving it a quick sniff.  Mason stifled a laugh as I took in the oddly shaped sandwich.  “What kind of meat is this?” I asked, pointing to my number one.

            “Cow?”

            “Cow…” I took a bite into my number one, chewed, and swallowed.  It was a strange flavor, extremely strong and accented by foreign foods.  It was tangy, sweet, sharp. 

            I looked back at Mason, gauging his reaction to my face.  He simply continued eating his.

            “What is that?” I asked, pointing to his sandwich.

            “A number two.”

            “A number two…can I try it?” I asked.  Mason sighed and handed over his sandwich that I promptly took a mouthful of.  Chewing slowly, I tried to evaluate the flavors.  “Hmmm.” I voiced before pulling off the top slice of rounded bread.  There was a red sauce on the number two, covering a green thing, some white cubes and an orange slice of something that smelled rather amusing.

            “That’s cheese,” he said, retrieving his sandwich.  “Pickles, onion, ketchup.”  He stole the slice of bread I was holding as well, “a bun.” And slapped it back down on his sandwich before continuing to eat it.  “I’m going to have to teach you a lot more than I thought.” He voiced.

            I took another bite out of my number one, rolling the strange meet, cheese, pickles and onions over my tongue.  I had never tasted something so strange.  There were so many flavors, it made everything I had grown up eating seem flavorless. 

            Mason reached across the table with a painted blue hand and grabbed a yellow stick looking thing from the box that sat on the tray.

            “French fry,” he said before dipping it in his ketchup and eating it.

            I dropped my number one and grabbed my own French fry.

            “French fry,” I copied before dipping it in ketchup and eating it as he had done.  Immediately I was struck by the pure saltiness of the food.  I spit it out, scratching at my tongue and reaching for my beverage, which I then realized was bubbling.  In response I spit that out as well.  What was with these humans?