Jumper

Chapter 6: Struggle

I struggle as I search my mind for an answer. Where should I go? I come to the uncertain conclusion of going west, remembering there’s a desert tribe awhile away, but it’s closest to me.

Deserts. Increasingly and excruciatingly hot, as I remember being told.  My body immediately starts to prepare itself for the even more dry and humid land I am to step into. At the same time, I feel grateful for being born in the plains tribe, so my body has adapted to the heat. I think of mandatory items to bring along-water, food, and transportation.  The journey will be long and perilous, and I’m determined to stay alive.

I recall what I learned in school-how to store water, and get easy food. I wrap together a makeshift water container-cutting off thin slices of wood, gathering thick dry leaves, then weaving it together with dry grass and bonding  them with tree sap. Fortunately, it works. I scoop up water from the waterhole and exasperate as I make seven more, until my fingers bleed. I keep wiping them on the dry grass, enduring the pain and inhaling sharply. I relieve my pain and contaminate the cool water with my blood.

I return to the village, in search for any tools and materials remaining. I find a water container, a knife, and shovel for tools, and a few good pieces of cloth to carry everything. With one of the pieces of cloth, I make a bag and store berries and other food inside. Luckily, our food storage wasn’t burnt away, and I take the last of the food.

For my head wound, I find a piece of cloth and bandage my head. Cloth. I realize that I'm barely dressed. I wear a worn, loose white shirt that touches higher part of my thighs, and the sleeves stop at the forearm.  I have nothing on my lower half except for undergarments, so I go back to my house and put on a pair of shorts that consist of different types of animal fur. For my journey, I find all the clothes I can that haven't been burned, and for more protection, I put on a brown leather lace-up vest. My boots are made for rough terrain and athletic activities. Once I get fully dressed, I feel another powerful wave of emotions fall over me as I look at my half burnt down house. I remember every memory I've had here-good and bad, and how I treasure each one. Now that everyone I have is gone, I feel horrible having to abandon my own home, the only part of my life that I have left. I know that if I were to stay here though, my memories would begin to haunt me and turn me to insanity. After a few minutes too long of drowning in my thoughts and memories, feeling the ache of my dad's death pulling me down farther, I submerge from my thoughts and get back to present problems.

          My next priority is the transportation. In the outskirts of our tribe, we have a corral for zebras. My gut hopes there are some left. I depart my home, leaving some of my heart with it, as walk over to the corral. By no surprise, I find a gory field of dead zebras, mauled by the Idalys. Hearing a noise in the brush, I rush towards it. At the sight of black and white stripes, my heart leaps at a live zebra. I look more closely at this one, and realize this is one of the distinguished of our group. Her eyes are different colors-one blue, the other brown. We call her Beqi, meaning blue. Beqi shivers, and huffs. I walk up to her and groom her neck, coaxing her. Once she is calmed down enough, I lead her outside the trees, to open fields. Tying my satchels of food on her, I sit in the ashy and rough grass. I leap onto Beqi's back, thankful for a ride, and lead her to the water hole to hydrate before the long trip.

I look farther than I can see, and imagine people. I won't be alone anymore, maybe before I go insane.

Loneliness can make you crazy. And when it's perpetual, it's impossible to control yourself. I see people in the distance, sometimes faces that I recognize from my tribe. A spark of hope passes through me, only to fade away when I shape into reality. My feelings overcome me at moments and I break down sobbing. I jump off Beqi, thrashing to the ground. I can't breathe. I'm utterly alone-no ones going to help me. I've tried to care for myself. I fear the tension of my life on the edge. People were always here for me, here to make sure I was okay. Now there is no one. Every last person that I loved and knew, every person that knew me, is dead. My tribe was all I had. Father was all I had. Thander, my brother, he left too long ago for me to know what has happened to him. Whether he's dead or alive, I don't know, and if he's alive, he doesn't care about me. He's never come back for me, never visited our tribe to see how we are doing, no, he doesn't care.