Doing simple tasks was a nightmare.

Starting a fire with only one arm was a struggle. Using my foot to try to strike a flint and stone was the worst part, and I had never felt more ashamed when Kia offered to step in and do it for me. I could not help with building the traps that we had set out towards catching small game, such as squirrels and rabbits.

Even cutting wild mushrooms with Toku’s knife was a challenge, because I had nothing to grab onto as I sawed into the thick stems. Although no one ever said it in my face, the truth was plainly in sight, like someone had written it on a blackboard. The moment I saw my reflection in a puddle I would turn away.

I was useless.

Everyone was working hard by being out in the hot sun while I crouched low beneath the thick tree branches, standing there like a fool. Whenever I tried to lift something up, like a log for instance, I would end up falling on the grass, unable to balance the weight on my right shoulder. By the end of the second week the wall that had been blown apart by the grenade had been halfway built.

A bright red wheelbarrow full of rusted axes and shovels gleamed in the sunlight, and the backs of our guests gleamed with sweat as they dig shovels of dirt in the air, following the designs of the bunkers I had sketched out on the notepad. To my relief, the Sandwich King had left behind the geometry book, so I was able to use it to make sure my measurements were accurate for their rectangular shape.

Toku had been thrilled when I showed him my final designs. I had sat up all night going through page after on the journal, trying to save as much paper as possible and cover every surface with ink. Yet the moment I tried to pick up a shovel, he placed a hand over my left stump, examining the bandages. I turned around and stared at him, feeling my heart sink.

“Not yet, not yet. I think you should rest, Honda. It’s healing nicely, but it’s only been two weeks. There’s still the risk of infection, and I want it to scar up nicely. Why don’t you collect more grubs for us, perhaps?”

Quickly, I shrugged him away. His smile faded as I threw down the shovel and began to write quickly.

“But I must do something. Anything. It is possible to shovel with one hand. I can just use my foot to scoop up as much dirt as possible. See?” I ignored the pain in my left shoulder as I tried to stick the blade in the soft soil. The metal burned my bare sole. “Please, let me help. I’m tired of letting others labor while I —“

Toku held his hands up. “I’m not telling you not to do anything, I just want you to take it easy. It’s just too much of a risk right now. You’re still slightly bleeding. When it heals up, of course. But it’s too much now.”

“Why do you always tell everyone what to do?” I scrawled across his palm, feeling the blood rush to my face. “Why do I have to do what you say? You’re not the boss around here, and yet, you act like you are. No. You are only two years older than me. What are you going to do if I disobey you? Kick me out?”

A look of shock appeared for a moment on his face, and for a moment, he looked down for a moment. The hot sun beating down on our heads caused my sweatshirt to stick to my back. I felt like something else was controlling my words, and I instantly felt ashamed, bracing himself to scream at me for talking back.

“No,” Toku said slowly. “No, of course not.”

His gentle tone stunned me. I stared at him.

“I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You don’t have to do what I say at all. I’m sorry for doing that to you and leaving you out here all on your own. It won’t happen again, alright? I don’t intend to exclude you from anything. I know you want to help.” When his green eyes finally met mine, they had a hint of vulnerability to them. “But I would like...I would like for you to help yourself, first. I don’t...I don’t mean to come up as bossy or controlling, and...and I certainly don’t want you to think that I am. I’m just worried, that’s all.”

“Oh.” I wanted to hide myself. “Oh...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.” Slowly, I scuffed my foot against the ground, kicking at a wild dandelion. “It wasn’t very becoming of me at all.”

“No, you don’t have to apologize. I don’t blame you for being frustrated. I know this is rough, but I think that you have been a great help so far. We would’ve been in the dark without those sketches. I simply don’t think it would be a good idea to put a lot of physical strain on yourself yet. How about...a week more?”

A loose piece of threaded string dangled from my sweater, and I pulled it off. “Is there anyway that I can help besides gathering grubs, though? I’ve been doing that all morning so far.” My heart raced. “Perhaps I can try to go hunting? May I use your knife, please? I will be extra careful, I promise. And I will sharpen it.”

Toku scratched his head. “Well...if you insist. Just as long as you don’t overdo it, since the traps are already set up.” With one hand, he reached near the waistband of his pants and handed me the blade. It was a lot shorter, worn down by months of use, and the blade was slightly wet. “Grubs are always helpful, too. And make sure to avoid the poisonous ones. Don’t want you ending up getting sick.”

Before I could thank him he had already started walking off towards Hagar, who was fussing since she had woken up from her nap underneath the shade on a blanket. Her little arms and legs wiggled in the air. My fingers slowly wrapped around the handle as I took off walking through the trees with a bag, my new sketchbook and one of the Sandwich King’s books that I had underneath my arm.

* * * * *

As the sun rose higher in the noon sky, nature revealed more of its beauty to me. The air smelled like pine trees and soil, and I could hear the chirping of nearby birds in the air. It was sorely tempting to forget to stay hidden in case anymore civilians were lurking about, but to my delight, there were none. The grass felt so soft I wanted to lie down and roll around in it. For once, I forgot about the dull pain lingering behind on my stump, which was starting to sweat under the bandages.

After a few moments of drinking in the entire scene, I reached the top of a hill, which was covered in bright blue forget me nots and tulips. Flies buzzed around my bare legs. Sweat poured down my neck and dripped down my forehead as the bag containing the few mushrooms that I managed to collect slipped out of my hands and fell to the ground. A small gasp escaped from my mouth at the glorious view of trees not too far away. I couldn’t see Selva anywhere, but at that moment, it didn’t seem to bother me.

At that moment, I wished I had some paints to capture its glory and essence. My feet shook a little as I managed to sit down in the grass and started to sketch with my right arm, using both edges of the pad to keep it sturdy. The led of the short, broken pencil was powdery, and I used the tips of my fingers to smear the lines to create shadows to the trees and hills in front of me.

A strange smell was in the air.

I sniffed and looked up. It was smoke, mixed in with some sort of pork. Roast pig, or a rabbit, perhaps. My stomach rumbled underneath me as I stumbled to my feet. Toku and Kia and everyone else would be quite surprised if I managed to swipe a nice piece of cooked meat, since we were getting tired of eating nuts and grasshoppers every single day. Yet I knew I shouldn’t dare; they were probably civilians. But a change to our diet would be nice. I glanced my sketchbook, then back at the thin line of gray escaping from the trees below. By now my way of travel probably had improved; I could move a lot more quieter than before.

It was worth a shot.

* * * * *

My knees felt sore as I crawled between the bushes, going down the slope of the hill. Thorns and twigs scratched at my skin, but I hardly felt it as my mouth watered. The scent grew stronger. Perhaps hunger could destroy one’s common sense and reasoning, but the temptation was too much to resist. Everything inside of me was screaming for me to turn back, but my hand tightly gripped Toku’s blade, causing my knuckles to burn as I was swallowed deeper and deeper into the words.

The sound of voices, drums beating, and laughter grew louder as the evening sky turned into a deep orange and blue color. I licked my lips as I began to move slower, making sure to not step on anything for fear of giving away my position. The darker it grew, the stronger the scent of burning wood met my nostrils.

Hundreds of shadow stretched out on the tree trunks and the dirt below. There was more of a chant, although I couldn’t make out what words were being said. When I pushed back a tree branch and peered out, my heart skipped a beat. The bright colored robes and garments met my eyes, and the way that the women were dressed reminded me of my very own homespun dress of my own village. Paint and clay designs marked their pale and dark brown faces. Several leafy huts, although some were carefully constructed in the stronger trees, lingered around in the lush vegetation.

Children laughed and ran all over the place. The women and men were singing and participating in a dance, swaying in rhythm and stepping their feet to the beat. I did not know which region these people were from, but at that moment, it seemed to matter little.

I slowly stood up, remaining in the shadows. The marks on their faces suggested that they had escaped from the prison just like me. I felt like I could soar. My best friend would be delighted to see such a thing; it would be amazing if they had some form of protection and not worry about soldiers.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Yet, something struck me funny about the whole scene in front of me.

They didn’t appear to be starving or hungry. Rather, they had more food then we could ever dream of back at the fort. It was only until I saw a group of children playing and running with a ball nearby did I everything seem to slow down. Perhaps I was dehydrated, or ill, or my eyes were decieving me. In this group, there were three children, two boys and a girl, giggling. They wore the traditional garb of my people, the beaded headbands and paint smeared with dirt on their faces.

At the very lead, one of the boys was kicking at it, running as fast as he could. A bright smile lit his face, one that I had dreamed for many nights that I could see again. He had lost most of his chubbiness and had become wiry and lean. How had he grown so tall so fast? Yet I could not forget those large brown eyes, the freckles that smattered his cheeks, or the wild curls that blew in the wind.

My eyes began to burn with water as he accidentally kicked the ball too hard, causing it land in the bushes a few feet away from where I was hiding. The other children roared with laughter as he rolled his eyes and began to make his way blindly towards me. With my only shaky arm, I scooped it up in my elbow as I heard his footsteps draw nearer and nearer. As he pushed back a branch and saw my face, his gray eyes widened with fear, which confused me. For a moment, I could only stare back at him before I collected myself, my heart skipping a beat. I wanted to hold him.

How had he survived? All those nights of anxiety and pain seemed to diminish. This boy was not the same one I had seen half a year ago, who was much taller.

“Benny,” I signed. Slowly, I took a step towards him. “You’re...you’re...you’re alive!”

The boy flinched and drew back, staring at my clothes. In the background, the other children took off running at the sight of me, disappearing through the crowd of people laughing and singing. My throat tightened, but I raised my hand again.

“Benny, it’s me! It’s me.”

A shriek echoed from his mouth as he turned to run off, but I reached out and grabbed his arm. The child screeched and tried to break free as the ball rolled to the ground. I bent down and tried to make him look me in the eyes, but there was only terror.

“Don’t be afraid! I won’t hurt you. Don’t you remember me? It’s me. I’m your sister, Honda. Your sister!”

“Let me go!” the boy cried. “Help!”

Before I could respond, a sharp pain appeared on my wrist. I drew it back quickly, seeing blood beginning to form on the teeth marks that had gathered on my skin. As Benny took off running, I couldn’t help but follow, ignoring the stares and murmurs of the crowd of people who had stopped dancing.

A few gurgled sounds escaped from my mouth as I pushed past several shoulders, my arm stretched out towards Benny. Before I knew it, some men had grabbed me and pushed me into the dirt. I squirmed and kicked as my sack was westled from me, and my sketchbook, Toku’s knife, and a few mushrooms spilled on the ground.

“Hold her down!” someone yelled.

My brother ran into the arms of a man with graying stubble. I tried to break free, but it was no use, only with one arm. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks as those who held onto me tightly forced me to my feet.

“Benny, please! It’s me! How do you not know me?” I tried to sign the words, but my arm was pinned back.

My bare feet dragged in the dirt as they brought me into a clearing, right by a wooden post in the middle of the huts. The boy was sobbing in the man’s arms, who was trying to comfort him by rubbing circles of comfort across his back. A short, elderly man threw my items in front of my and grabbed me by the chin. Based on the quality of the robes, I supposed he was the new chief of this small village.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

The eyes and faces that surrounded me made me want to scream. I tried to make another guttering noise again. How had my own brother failed to recognize me? It hurt even worse that he was afraid of me.

One of the women scowled. “She can’t talk.”

“Let her go,” the chief demanded.

One of the men shoved me into the ground once more, where I landed on my stomach. Slowly, I started to crawl on my knees to my brother, but other people blocked my way. My sobs began to shake my entire body.

“Benny,” I signed weakly. “It’s me. Please don’t be afraid of me. I’m here to take you with me. I have a safe place for you. I can take care of you, I promise.”

The man studying me caught my eye. Before he could do anything, I lunged towards him, digging my fingers into his sleeve with my one arm. He tried to struggle free, but I had latched onto him very well and buried my head against his chest. He was alive. He had been alive, and it was painful for me to call him by his name.

“She seeks the way of the civilians to destroy us with their filth,” the chief said, stepping closer to us. “She is wearing civilian clothes, has civilian objects. Her mind has been poisoned.”

I looked up at him. Papa’s eyes were moist, and he was fighting to hide his composure. I fought to remind myself that this was the same man who had carried me on his shoulders when I was a little girl, who had signed me every single word I knew, who had comforted me during my worst times, even after Mama passed from the fever. He had sworn to be with me.

“I missed you so much. Don’t leave me, Papa,” I signed. “Tell them. Tell them that you understand me. You and Benny can come with me. I have a good friend, my very first one. He can help bring more of us out from the camps; if you would just....”

“Do you know what nonsense this girl is saying?” The chief dropped my belongings at his feet. “She is a traitor. The girl is conspiring with our worst enemy. She does not belong to one of us, especially for frightening that poor boy. If she is yours, you and your family must leave this village at once. We cannot have the spread of civilian disease around here. It is not safe.”

Papa’s brown eyes studied me for a moment, like he had just met me for the first time. The salt tears traveling down into my mouth tasted awful. Benny was furrther away, huddling in a corner, his head buried his his knees. I tried to go to him, but Papa restrained me. When he spoke, my heart broke into two, and my ears started to ring. Everything sounded muffled.

“I have no daughter,” he said. “I do not know her.”

There was a deep murmur amongst the crowd. I could only stare at him, but he would not look me in the eye. Had he not missed me at all after we had been separated, or worried if I was still alive? How could he deny me, when he was the very one who held me in his arms? I did not understand, this had to be a dream. Maybe I wasn’t here at all. The trees and villagers and huts surrounding me were nothing but figments in my imagination.

I grabbed on tighter to him as he tried to pull me off.

“Papa! It’s me! It’s me!”

He looked away as two men came and started yanking me backwards. The noises coming from my mouth sounded like they belonged to an animal, choked up and estranged.

”Please, don’t leave me!” My fingers were crooked and sweaty. “Don’t leave me!”

Mud and grass clung to my arms and legs as my fingers left marks on the ground. The man who’d I’d known as my father for years turned and took Benny’s hand, and they walked away. It was hard to make out their disappearing shapes between the spaces of dozens of legs surrounding me. I squirmed and kicked.

The chief made a whistling sound. “What is the penalty for traitors? For civilian lovers? Look at the rags she wears. She is a conspirator. No man here raises a traitor. She must be dealt with properly.”

“Traitor,” the crowd roared. “Burn her at the stake.”

The beating of the drum and chanting filled my ears as I felt my arms and legs being tied tightly to the wooden post. By now my chest was so tight it was difficult to breathe, and hot tears dripped down my chin. Why hadn’t I listened to Toku and stayed near the path to were the traps were set?

There were arms, many faces, that seemed to melt and spill on top of each other as each hand placed a stick or a handful of dry moss in the growing pile around my feet. The chanting grew louder as the chief approached, holding a bright torch in his hand. His eyes glowed from the flame. I could hardly make him out through my vision.

“Begone, traitor. You are to never set foot amongst our people again.” With one hand, he raised it above the pile as I slowly closed my eyes. “Begone!”

A loud gunshot rang in the air. The man’s eyes drooped, and a painful groan escaped from his lips. Blood escaped from the giant hole on the side of his head as he collapsed to the ground. The torch went out in a puff of smoke. More shots rang out, and people began to scream and took off running.

I didn’t have the strength to raise my head, although it was so dark outside it was hard to make out anything. The gunshots continued for a while until the entire area was quiet, with the exception a few campfires left behind in the smoldering ashes. My arms and legs felt sore from the tension of the rope against my bare skin. And although it was dark, I felt like I was with someone, or something. But it was impossible to see.

There was a light sawing sound, and I could feel the ropes around me beginning to loosen and fall apart. When I collapsed to the ground, my sobs overpowered me, and I could feel my whole body shake. I wanted to cry out for my father and brother. It was silent for a long time, before I felt something lightly touch my arm. The breathing was quiet and shaky.

“I understand,” a voice whispered.

I looked up, wiping my eyes and trying to see through the dark, but there was nothing but pitch black surrounding me. Perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me again. A growing pit rose in my stomach as I stumbled through the trees and branches, my breaths growing heavier and heavier as I anticipated whatever was near me to come out and attack. And for a moment, I wished that it would. It would be better so that I did not have to replay my father’s words in my mind over and over again.

My stomach was so upset that I had to stop several times to bend over and vomit what little I had consumed that day. Bile burned the back of my throat.

When I reached the top of the hill, I didn’t stop running.

* * * * * * *

Toku wasn’t too thrilled when he found out that I had lost his knife, or when I didn’t bring back any mushrooms. But nothing he could say fazed me, and I ended up curling into a ball underneath a tree, shivering and letting the hot tears travel down my face. The stars seemed to glow brighter with each passing night, and I wondered if Adlai looked at them as well. I had been working on a few new sketches I had wanted to give him when he returned, but they had been in the sketchbook. I had to find a new one.

I turned on my side and closed my eyes, waiting for my father’s words to go away. Kia draped a blanket over me and thought that I had caught the flu, making me drink willow and ginger tea. I barely tasted it, not even when Toku asked why I had not gone down to look for any more new people.

He asked several more questions, which I answered none of. I was not sure if I wanted to see another person again, or if this was a very bad dream. Deep in my heart, I knew that it wasn’t, and that was by far the most painful part. And I didn’t know how to tell anyone, let alone my best friend, that I had no family anymore. Whom I had known had spat me out, and what had freed me from the ropes haunted my dreams. There was no figure, no shape, no body, just darkness itself. It was the reason that I had no burns.

I was completely alone.

“Yes,” the voice whispered. “I understand.”