Stranded

Chapter 5 ~ Hannah

I walk to the edge of the forest after finally getting all of the mud and other similar paint like things off of my skin and hair via river. My hunting shift is over.

I finish braiding and tying a piece of cloth into place to hold back my soaking wet hair before I grab my excuse of a shirt and put it on. It is torn off at the bottom all the way up to where my bra almost shows, the sleeves and collar is torn off, and it's no longer fully white. I don't bother buttoning it. Everyone else has done this as well, but the colors vary sense we're all from different schools or grades in different schools so some shirts started out white, others cream or bash. I tie on my skirt, a long piece of cloth that goes down to my knees. Another thing everyone has, the regular skirts were too hot. We do still have some regular clothes left, that's what those who go to the boy's meeting wear, too hot and catchy for anything else but to look proper. We all wear our hair in either one or two braids to try and keep ourselves cool. I walk out into the blistering sun. We've all gotten tans, and no one wears stockings, socks, or shoes anymore, we've given up on that long ago. We'd probably walk around in just our bras, or shirts for those who don't have bras yet, and undies if it wasn't for the younger boys that we have to watch. We gave in when who knows how many died with that fire the boys caused. At least one died, that's the only certain one. Then they wanted us to build their shelters so Jack could have more hunters, witch we all stubbornly refused. The boys have no work ethic, it was all Cassie could do to keep slight faith in the older boys with the signal fire. Of course, that's the easiest thing not to blow. Doesn't matter though, none of the girls trust the boys, there's even an unofficial night watch to make sure they don't sneak into camp. Only thing is, I don't even know if the boys know where our camp is, just the direction....

I can see the younger kids playing in the confines of our camp. We have many huts surrounded by a fence and one large central hut for our twilight and nightly meetings. It's also where we cook the pigs when we catch one. It happens more than not, we work better as a team then the boys do, this most recent shift was just about seeing the pigs daily patterns. We are only allowed to catch a pig every week or two so we don't hunt them out or get more than we can use. We use everything, like the indians, and unlike the boys, we get our jobs done. We use the mud and other such things to blend in with the forest. The boys don't know about it though. We used to tell them about it, but we got the distinct impression that they didn't want help and stopped telling them. Besides, they didn't believe us. I don't know if one pig could actually feed everyone, then we'd be real worried about hunting them out of existence, this is an island after all.

The big central hut has the only always lit fire in it and the few tools we scavenged from the wrecked plane when they aren't being used. A few knives and some sharp pieces of wreckage that we use to cut up bark to make shelters. All the huts have holes in the the roofs, just in case it gets real cold and we need fire in all of them, although the thought seems impossible to most of us. I walk into the village. We've been here for what seems like forever.

"Finally, I can't wait to get off of the beach," Selene says walking away from where she was playing with a few of the younger kids. I don't think they even notice. We don't need to do much to keep them entertained. This is more of a rest shift than anything else, but it's fun to play with the younger ones sometimes.

"Have fun gathering," I tell her before I go join the small group I usually play with, not being quit over the warmth of the sun yet. Once I am, I'll move into one of the huts.