1
We ran out of rations within the first week, all of us too hungry to save any for later. By
Friday, we were back to where we started: hungry, tired and on the brink of insanity. I, being the responsible guardian, gave my part of the ration to Rach, the youngest of us three and the most vulnerable. She had no self-control over her hunger, always craving more and eating it all on the spot the minute it was in her grubby little hands. Trae and I looked on helplessly, knowing well enough that she would regret eating everything later, when the hunger pains got really bad. She would learn soon enough that she had to control herself, no matter how hard it gets. That’s one of the first lessons you learn when you become ten.
Six dull eyes looked at our empty straw sack. Surely we couldn’t have eaten that fast. We had more food than we could have hoped for this week after the family next street were taken away during the middle of the night. No one knows where they go, but what we do know is that they never return to their house again. We took the chance and took their ration sack from their doorstep in the middle of the night. Now, after just five days, everything was gone. It felt like an eternity before Rach spoke up with a quivering voice.
“This is all my fault.”
Her eyes had glazed over with a thick layer of salty tears. Her lips trembled as the first tear began to make its way down her dusty cheek.
“I should have waited for mealtimes, breakfast, lunch and dinner. But … but I just couldn’t help myself.”
By now she was in a right state. Her tears left trails of clear skin from the brown, powdery dust. She could barely hold herself together.
“I thought you wouldn’t notice, I … I thought we could still last the week.”
She tore her eyes away from the vast emptiness of our straw bag and trudged over to her corner, where she crouched down and her body shook violently from her sobs. Trae and I looked at each other with pity. We knew that she was deeply sorry, yet we couldn’t forgive her quite so easily. She had not only put herself in a bad position for the next two days, but she also left us starving thanks to her empty stomach. I looked Trae up and down, trying to see what she looked like without all her clothes on, keeping her warm from the winter wind. Her face had sunken in, revealing defined cheekbones and pale blue eye sockets. She needs the food; she needs it more than Rach and me. Her fingers were a thin layer of skin on stringy pieces of bone.
The wind found its way under our window, which had been caked in dirt and was impossible to see out of. I shrugged more of my thin coat onto my shoulders, covering my chin with what still remained of my scarf. Rach shuddered in her corner, even though she had the most layers on in the family. I took one last look into our sack, and spoke for the first time in what felt like hours.
“I guess I’ll be hunting tomorrow.”
Rach looked up at me with red, puffy eyes and cried even more. She kept on muttering to herself in between sobs, saying how everything was her fault. I looked opposite me to Trae, who was still staring blankly at the straw sack.
“Trae, you know the drill. I’ll be leaving tomorrow before dawn and be at the Overflow all day. If I’m not home by sunset tomorrow, don’t come looking for me. They’ll see that you and Rach are both missing, and they’ll hunt you down and take you away, just like they did with mum.”
