For the Sake of Breathing

Chapter Two

        I've known Ten for my entire life. Ten's been there when no one else was. I don't know his real name, but he's always told me his name is Ten. I've never questioned it. 

        I remember when Zander, my older brother, left camp, on foot, in search of the Great Haven, an old legend about a jungle, full of water and animals that's supposedly located somewhere on the southern side of the Lifeless Valley, which is what used to be the Caribbean Sea. He promised Ten and I he'd come back for us. I was eight years old, then. Ten was, well, ten. And Zander never did come back. The theory that makes the most sense to us is he died, but I know Ten doesn't believe it. He thinks Zander abandoned us here, on the northern end of the Lifeless Valley. We've thought of moving, of going in search of the Great Haven ourselves, but we've always felt like where we are is home.

        Ten and I grew up together, learning how to survive on our own. It was difficult, depressing, and grueling our first few years, but we still managed to stay alive. I honestly can't imagine my life without him in it. He's just... occupied so much of it. 

        He injured himself trying to put out a fire, and burned his left hand. I decided to go and see if the Mayor would get me medicine. Unfortunately, it takes all day just coming here and back. It takes six hours. Both ways. I left when it was still dark out this morning. 

        The Mayor narrows his eyes with concern. "How's he hurt?"

        "He's burnt. Badly. Do you... have any medicine that I could use?" my face is flushing from humiliation. I'm practically begging him to let me use his burn medicine. And he probably doesn't even have any. 

        He wraps an arm around my shoulders, guiding me into... a living room. He passes through a metal side-door, leading me inside a bathroom. I stare at his toilet in fascination. The liquid in the bowl isn't water, of course. I actually don't know what it is. He doesn't provide an explanation. Instead, he opens a cabinet on his bathroom wall behind a mirror. The mirror is now facing me. I cringe at the sight of myself. I raise a hand to touch my cheek. The girl in the mirror does the same. I have a pale shade of wavy red hair, like someone dribbled blood into milk, and blue-green eyes. I'm dirty and tan from being in the sun all the time. I have a slender face, broad hips, and, admittedly, quite full breasts. I glance away, disturbed by my reflection. Disturbed, because I'm nothing like I thought I appeared like. Disturbed, because I'm pretty, and it unsettles me. I actually would have been more comfortable with myself if I was ugly, because it would make sense. I'm a thief and a renegade.

        The Mayor shuts the cabinet door, handing me a small container, labeled: "For Burns", and a bunch of ingredients on the other side. He smiles at me. "There you go."

         "Thank you. Thank you so much," I whisper, voice cracking.

        "How long does it take for you to walk from here to your camp?"

        "Six hours," I mutter sourly.

        "It's three thirty in the afternoon. You'll be getting back after midnight."

         It had taken me longer because it's harder to navigate in the dark, I had gotten lost searching for his house, and I stopped to steal a blanket. It'll probably take me ten hours back. (One hour to actually leave the residential area, and three because, again, I'll be in the dark.) It'll be almost five in the morning by the time I get back. That's twenty-four straight hours. 

        "Why don't you just stay the night here, and leave in the morning?" he invites.

        It's incredibly tempting to accept.