Domesticating Green

"I'm only telling this because if I don't, my breast will explode from the pressure of it all, you won't like it, I know you won't, but frankly, it's not for you, it's for me."

"Why do you believe that, my child?"

"I'm not your child, if I was, I probably wouldn't be here, my name is Green."

"Green?"

"Yes, Green, nothing more nothing less. But my name isn't really all that important, so if you don't mind, may I continue with my confessional?"

A sound came through the wooden screen, it sounded like the rumbling and popping of mucus, so she knew he was clearing his voice, "Please do."

"So, as I was saying, you won't like this, but it doesn't matter if you like it, huh? Because as a priest, you have to listen, huh?"

"Something like that."

She chuckled, "Of course it is. Anyways, it all began when I was a child. Actually, I don't think child is the right word for what I was.... it was as if I was grown and mature already and stuck in a shrimpy body that wasn't really capable of shit, oh crap, I mean squat, yeah squat. I couldn't do squat. Anyways, I wasn't wanted, by my parents or no one, even my sister tried to drown me, so I left. I didn't want to be with them anyways, but it would've been nice if they wanted me I suppose...but that doesn't matter, what matter is that I left, because this all happened because I left.

"I was about thirteen when I left, and I was still pretty puny, too small to live anywhere urban for a long, long time, so I lived in the woods. It was nice, I lived in the hollow bottom part of a tree, it was dry enough there, 'specially when I would fill the bottom with the sting of redwood bark, I saw the squirrel above me do that my first fall there, right before winter, I took the hint. I would eat berries, and smoke mushrooms, that that the heavens, weren't poisonous, because I didn't know if they were or not when I first took the chance. I would scavenge for animals, already dead ones, then I 'd cook, smoke or dry the meat, and stash it in a tiny hole under my redwood string bedded floor. I had three separate holes, one for meat I got in the fall, usually the smoked, dried or cooked type, one for winter meat, meat that I'd freeze in ice outside of my little hollow tree, and one for nuts and berries. I never had any berries left in winter, but lots of nuts. I felt like a squirrel, the sister to the one who lived above me. I had lots of clothes that I would keep in a tinier hollow hole a little above mine that I'd keep my clothes in...shirts, pants, underwear, two spare blankets, two ski coats, hats, gloves, socks, shoes...and also books. I only had book for company, and let me tell you, they made better company than the people I was forced to live with before.

"I'm rambling, now, huh? Anyways, that's how I lived until I was about fifteen maybe? That's the year I got my period, and the year I got real...hungry...I don't know what I was hungry for, because it wasn't food. I wasn't hungry for something to eat, but I was hungry for something to do...something to have and claim as my own...most of the time I felt as if I wanted to conquer the world, other times I felt like it'd be nice to have someone to conquer the world with...and then he showed. I was by the river, it was winter, and I was washing my clothes in a hole in the ice on the river, and washing myself. Yeah, I know, you're thinking, "How the fuck did she do that? How come he didn't freeze?" well, I had a system; I would scrub myself with piece of an old t-shirt, and scrub myself under my clothes with a blanket draped over me. Yeah, sometimes I got sick, but never sick enough to die, or to the point where I was puking, I don't believe I ever puked in my whole life, until I met him. Like I said, I was watching, and then I look up -'cuz I heard the soft smushing sound of snow-and I see him across the lake. He was wearing some old cowboy boots, I could tell they were old 'cuz of the dark brown color they were, and an even older dark brown, almost black, a leather coat with a red flannel and a thermal long sleeve shirt under. He was wearing a wide brim hat, it almost looked like what I imagine a Pilgrim's hat too have looked like, it looked old enough to have been one...now that I think about it, almost all of his clothes were old, hand-me downs from his brothers...anyways, in his hands was a rifle, he was hunting...out of season too, I believe. He had a bewildered look on his face that was half covered in scruffy, but short facial hair, which he had, though he couldn't have been more than two years older than me...he was Diablo. My own personal devil, though, for a while, I thought of him as my own personal angel, despite his name.