The wound healed quickly with the aid of that mysterious clear liquid, and by the third morning I managed to run. Just when I thought it was impossible.
Weeks went by without us even realizing. There were things to do every day, and all were so time consuming. Caspar kept to himself in the hut, while I wandered off in to the woods. I made sure I knew the area, then each day extended my previous location. It was a great strategy, until Samarius decided to come along one day. He told me not to venture so far, in case I came across any danger. I told him I could protect myself, though.
I managed to discover a large stream that was a reliable and permanent source for our fresh water. It continued down the mountain, but I was unable to follow it due to Samarius being there, which was disheartening. When Samarius was busy with Caspar, I ventured down to the large stream and bathed after the winter had passed. The others preferred to do so inside, but to me the stream felt natural and the water lapping against my bare back felt nice. The heat was a little unbearable here, making me a little on edge from the discomfort, but the cool water always calmed me down.
Samarius has wandered out in to the woods numerous times in search of game to eat. Our supplies are rapidly disappearing and I see now how we are expected to live. My routine before the asylum nestles itself back in to my brain and I become aware of how lowly educated Samarius really is on gathering food for our little … family. I’ve decided to teach him and Caspar on this as well, since I’ve already taught them how to cook basic meals in the first five days I’d had off. Caspar was a wonderful student, Samarius, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. I’d never thought that suave man in a suit could possibly have such an attitude.
“Shoot it!” I scream at him. His home-made arrow is perched up on his arm and I scream for the millionth time today for him to shoot the bird. His short temperament lights up immediately as soon as I point out his wrong doing and we get in to a heated argument.
“Fuck!” He shouts after the bird, spinning around and storming up to the base of the tree I sit in. I snigger and try to hide my laughter but fail miserably. My aggression with him is pushing me to the brink of insanity but if I say it softly, it just won’t pierce the walls of his thick head. His impression at the asylum told me he was skilled with these sorts of activities, but obviously not.
“Why can’t you just shoot it!” I scream in amusement, with a fake tone of frustration. “It’s not hard to try!” I finish, hopping down on to a lower branch. I dangle my legs just next to his broad shoulders, wobbling the tree so that some dirt falls in to his face. It mixes with his sweat and I laugh. Our relationship is not as strained anymore. We become friends in only a short amount of time, and I begin to see how we all glue together. His temper clashes severely with my feisty personality though. Control flies out of the window as soon as we begin to argue, and all kinds of colourful language is thrown back and forth. That asylum really drained me, and I feel that here we can neither be seen or heard, therefore I feel free. I can’t imagine what it would be like if I stayed in there any longer than I did.
“Here!” I snatch the bow off of his shoulder and aim the arrow at the now sitting bird. Within seconds it slices through the birds torso sending feathers in to the air. The creature drops with a light thud on to the ground and I push myself out of the tree to reach for it. A hand picks it up then passes it to me. I see Samarius scowling viciously at my victory. I laugh.
“It really isn’t.” I say between my light hearted laughs. He grumbles for the fourth time today.
“Come on then, let’s go down to the stream. I’m hot and sweating profusely and I’d rather not stay here and watch you continue to fail at shooting such a small thing. You’re getting on my nerves.” I say as I almost run towards the streams fresh water. We arrive in almost no time, and I begin to take my boots and pants. I leave my undergarments on along with my white blouse, given to me from Caspar only recently. It reminds me of the one I wore a mere 2 months ago, in the white hell.
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A/04 - The Beginning
Teen Fiction- Is there really any control, if even our thoughts are being monitored? Jane, among others, is stolen and tested by a team of scientists to study human behaviour for those who aren't of the race themselves. A story of those who survived the apocaly...
