Sabella's Journey

Chapter 13

I hadn't gotten a decent wash in what felt like months but was practically days. Here I sat on a giant boulder at the edge of the miniature river bank, still in my dirty cream - now brown - dress washing my face. It wasn't far from Chaska's hut, whom I was still ignoring after our heated argument when I got here.

It's been a few days since he brought me here - four to be exact. Four days of being completely and utterly helpless, but at least I wasn't alone. I was trapped in this hell hole I now had to call home, which would never be home. The day after I came here, Chaska informed his father that I wasn't to be sold; instead, I was to be kept here with them. The older man wasn't too happy with the decision, but eventually, he'd give in. Though I hadn't been treated as a slave, I still got the occasional glares from some who felt I was below them. They hated the fact that I stayed with Chaska inside his hut; they hated that all his attention was placed upon me since he brought me here. I didn't blame them, especially the women; after all, he was next in line to become the chief and would soon have to get married to one of them. What they didn't seem to understand is that the Indian only pitied me. That's why I'm still alive. He's been a good friend so far, even though I continued to ignore his very existence. He talks continually when we're together, which is most of the day. In fact, I've already known his entire life story, with him only knowing very little of mine. The only time he leaves is during the afternoon to go hunting with the others. He does all the work by himself, never asking or demanding help, while I sat in the corner glaring at him. He even lets me wander about on my own, since I wouldn't run; even if I did, I couldn't get far as there was nothing but trees for miles.

"Are you going to talk to me now?"

I turned around after hearing Chaska's husky early morning voice. In his hand, he held a plain buckskin dress with a warm smile upon his olive-covered face.

I know none of this is his fault, it's his father's and the others' fault. But I guess I couldn't blame them either, not after what they've been through by the hands of my people. Although I'm more on the darker side, even darker than Chaska, I grew up among the whites; even if most of them didn't accept me, I accepted them just fine.

"That depends," I arched an eyebrow at him.

"Your first words in three days. I'll take that as a yes," he smirked, "Here..." he walked closer towards me, "...wash up and put these on," he said, handing me the clothes.

"I don't want that," I pointed at the dress in his hand, my voice stern and unbroken.

"Why?" Chaska questioned, looking at the buckskin as if there's something wrong with it.

I got up off the boulder, "It's uncomfortable, that's why."

"No, it's not," he pouted.

"Okay then. You wear it," I told him, trying to hide the smile that's making its way across my face.

Chaska crinkled his forehead, "So you think I'm a woman?"

I sighed, "No, I don't think you're a -"

"What do you want then?" he interrupted.

"That," I pointed up and down at his buckskin pants and shirt.

"You want my clothes?" he asks in disbelief.

"No. I want one like it. Come on please, it's comfortable -"

"But you're not a man, Bella," he gave me his innocent puppy dog eyes unknowingly. He tends to do a lot of things unknowingly.

"Well then I'll go back to not talking to you," I lifted both brows and crossed my arms.

He sighed. "Fine," he stormed off, heading back to the hut, "Wait there, I'll be back!" he yelled, not looking behind as he mumbled things under his breath.

"Take your time!" I shouted towards him with a smile so bright it would've lit up a Christmas tree.

When Chaska returned, he'd given me soap, a towel, a pair of buckskin shoes, and beautiful buckskin pants and a shirt; they were plain but comfortable.

"Now you can throw that thing away that you kept on your body all those days," he gestured with his hands at my dress, "Give it to me, I'll burn it."

I glared at him, "It's not that bad," I looked down at my dress, "I can wash it."

"Bella, you stink..." Chaska chuckled, "...and that dress is only making it worse."

I rolled my eyes, "Says the man who goes hunting and doesn't even bother to bathe when he gets back; instead, he goes to sleep smelling like a dead deer."

His mouth went agape for a mere second, "I do not smell like a dead deer."

"Yeah, whatever makes you sleep at night," I mumbled, but he heard every word.

He pouted his lips like a child again, "You're....you're....ahh, what's that word I'm looking for? -"

"Annoying?" I finished his sentence.

"Hmm, just hurry up and get back to the hut when you're finished," he said, storming off again, leaving me alone to take the bath I've been robbed of for the past few days.

To be honest, he's starting to grow on me; though we're complete opposites, we do get along in a weird kind of way.

I placed the clothes neatly on a small boulder, then made my way towards the river. As I stepped foot into the steadily flowing stream, the water only rose up to my knee.

I glanced around the forest until I noticed a figure lurking between the trees. Although I couldn't make out who it was, it was definitely someone and not something.

I took my eyes off the figure for a second, turning my gaze back at Chaska's hut. Then I felt it; a burning sensation shot through my left arm. I turned to look back at the figure, who I could now make out more clearly. It was a man, and he was an Indian; he held a bow in his hand as he sprinted back into the forest. Then the realization hit me hard in the face. He shot me. I gazed down at my arm where the arrow was still stuck to it; panic exploded through me as my eyes grew wide at the sight.

"Oh my god, I'm going to die," I whispered to myself, "Oh my god, I'm going to die," I said a little louder, my eyes growing a little wider. "Oh my god, I'm going to die!" I yelled, looking at the hut with my mouth wide open. Though I probably wasn't going to die, I have a tendency to exaggerate things.

"Chaska!" I yelled, still looking at the arrow that's stuck in my arm. Within seconds, I saw him running out of the hut and coming towards me, panic evident in his face.

"Oh my god, Chaska, I'm going to die!"