Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Stones of Summer: Instinct ❯ Mid-Summer/18 ( Chapter 7 )

Sickness and pain racked my body. I could no longer move on. This was it. I had refused the inevitable for as long as I could, but one could not run from their fate. I lie out in the ground, the sun beating down tortuously on me yet I felt nothing of it except the extreme thirst and broiled skin. My mouth was overly dry and my tongue felt fuzzy, my breath came in uneven spurts and my limbs twitched every now and again.
My lips cracked and bled, my skin pulled tight over my body, like I was getting in clothes too small and expecting for them to tear at the seams any moment. I let my mind roam, expecting to have died within that time.
I was completely confused and bewildered when I woke in a lumpy cot with someone pressing a cool, water soaked cloth to my damaged lips. I gasped and was forced back down by a restraining hand.
“Calm child, you were on death's door. You will take some time recovering.” I knew that voice, if only briefly. The mother. Her smooth but scarred hands soothed my hair back and dropped me into a dark deep sleep.
I didn't fight hard.

Time passed quickly, while the days seemed to drag on. Nao-shin nursed me back to health and a weight that didn't have me looking like a skeleton. I still avoided touching my hair for fear of losing chunks. My skin peeled and flaked, exposing a new, softer one underneath that was stronger against the environment and weather. My body must have been working on that for a long time, no wonder we burned so easily.
I aided Nao-shin in her daily chores and even helped take care of Jun-Hung, the baby. He seemed increasingly curious about the world around him and had me chasing after him many a days. She spoke little to me, and I found it odd that she could speak English, even the child knew a few words. I had a vague idea that Jun-Hung's father was not one of a tribe, an outsider, just like myself. But there was no proving it, nor would I ask.
I gathered that this was the tribe of her brother, and that she had fled to it from her own tribe in fear of death. I never found out why her and her child were in that prison with those rotting men. The others of this tribe avoided me, staring at me from a distance, but turning away whenever I got too close. It was to protect themselves and out of disgust of me. I didn't mind the looks, or the isolated treatment. I was still trying to overcome the intense sorrowfulness that threatened to completely consume me.
“You must forget if you are to survive. Move on.” I jumped when Nao-shin spoke. Twisting to look at her over my shoulder, I fought to hold my tears in check. I held my hands together tightly.
“What?” She fixed her gaze on me while she chopped vegetables. I look to the floor.
“Are you saying I should forget it all? And I still haven't found my home yet, I can't stay here forever. How will forgetting help me?” She dumped the vegetables into a hammered pot that was hung over a fire.
“You're right, you can't stay. We will help you as best we can, but you must help yourself. You are wasting away from living the way you are. You have to forget if you are to live on.” She stopped abruptly when her brother entered the shack. He glared me down, gave his sister a nod, and picked Jun-Hung up, taking him outside.
She turned to me one last time.
“You need to find your way while forgetting the things that will hold you back. They will be the death of you.” I went and sat outside the hut. It was never as easy as people said. How could I just forgetThat wasn't possible, I couldn't forget Way and the plane crash. I couldn't forget the threats and sunburns, the water and the desperate need for rain. No one could just erase my memory of all that had happened. It was physically impossible and mentally shattering.

It was dawn when Nao-shin's brother yanked me from the palate I lay on. He dragged me out of the hut, gripping my arm with bruising force. He said nothing as he dragged me across the village, dropping me a distance from the edge of the tribal grounds. He spat on me and then turned away, leaving me in the rising rays of the sun. I took the hint. I pulled myself from the dirt, rubbing my shirt together to wipe the spit away. I wandered around the edge of the village until the sun was high in the sky.
“Child.” I whipped around to face Nao-shin. She had Way's jacket and my deer skin tucked around her arm, and a cloth wrapped package held against her chest. She offered it all to me before taking my face in her hands.
“Child, it is now that you must grow up. You have been taught to survive, your dead friend made sure of that. Now use those skills, become a woman, use them to learn to live, use them to find your way home.” She then pressed her lips to my forehead and walked away without a glance back. I stood there for a few minutes, not sure what to do with myself. I avoided peeking into the cloth wrapped items, and instead wrapped them in Way's jacket and tied it around my waist. I moved on, stacking a small tower of stones every couple hundred yards or so.
I pressed on.

Screaming, I dropped to the ground to roll. The pain was so severe, I thought I was being eaten alive! I ripped my clothes off and scurried to my feet, standing naked in the middle of the field. It didn't really matter, I hadn't seen another living person in months, maybe a year. I snatched Waylen's jacket off the nearby branch, dashing the bugs from it. It was thankfully vacant of the swarm. I zipped it up fully, shivering slightly when the metal teeth brushed against my bare belly.
“Of course it would be my luck, finding the first patch of grass in forever only for it to be inhabited by man eating bugs!” I sneered in disgust.
My clothes were soon a black mass of the angry insects and I moved away quickly.
“There'll be no salvaging them.” My skin still itched with the after pain.
'I'd better hope to find home soon, it's gonna be hell out here with no clothes.'

I ran about from place to place. I roamed the area, exploring the land as I went about. I became familiar with the land as I laid my towers down. I found a swift river, and a small overhang of rocks that shielded me from the sun on most days. In the cloth covered package, Nao-shin had packed me some dried meats, a few vegetables and an herb that soothed violent stomachs. It was incredibly useful. I spent a few days trying to craft a blade. My first attempts were messy and useless, either making the blade too small or making it an odd useless shape. When I had finally made one that was semi-decent, I went hunting. I sought small game, rodents, birds, and a few wild boars. My hand grew steadier each time I made a kill and the animal within me controlled me. It controlled how much, when, and what I ate. It controlled my thoughts, keeping me from going insane. It even answered me, within my mind. I tried to avoid asking myself things, I didn't like when I answered back.
'You shouldn't be so mean to us, we're just you.' I squeezed my eyes closed and forced the voice away.

Life moved on. The heatwave continued. I worked hard to survive.

I sat under the rock shelf, hiding from the severe heat. I lay back on the dirt, stretched out. A crunch of rocks had my ears on alert, but I was too hot to pay much attention. A low growl grabbed me instantly though. I jumped up in an awkward manner and pressed myself against the cool wall. Just as my thoughts ran rampant, my worst nightmare strolled into the small hangover's cave like space. Golden fur separated by bold and frightening strikes of of black. The flat face hissed at me only to flop out on the ground near me. I held my breath, unsure what to do. If I moved, the cat may attack, yet if I stayed, I was more likely to be attacked. What was I to do?! Its eyes closed and its tail twitched back and forth lazily.
I dropped to my knees when they locked from standing in one position for so long. I stayed that way for hours, until night fell, and the cat left. Just like that, it left me with only an irritated purr. I moved quickly to build up an extra tall fire. I didn't sleep the entire night.

The tiger, which I had discovered was male, continued to come around during the days, and I worked to find new places to spend the night. Some how he found me anyway. As time wore on, he followed me as I hunted, or went to the river. I ran as fast as I could each time he followed me, fearful that if he caught up to me, he would kill me. Whenever I would look back, he would be laying out contently under a rock, tree or cloud.
I built up a strength this way.
I still feared the tiger horribly. Each time the big cat showed up, I thought my heart would drop out of my stomach.

And finally, one day when I had gotten too comfortable with the tiger around, I got too close, and the animal jumped me. He dug into my arm and I lay bleeding as he left me there to die.

Deja vu slammed into my chest as a restraining hand forced me back down. I bit back a scream as my arm wailed in pain. A woman spoke to me, quietly and rushed. I opened my eyes, not fully understanding her.

When I was able to move from the palate I had been laid on, my hostess told me she was my nursemaid, and when I was well, I was to leave. She told me that her huntsmen found me bloody and next to death. They were wary to help me, what with the tiger hovering near my body. The only reason they had aided me was that they had seen me running, had seen me surviving. At last they had taken me back to their village to be healed.
If only they could heal my heart, spirit and soul.

I spent at least a week there, and had received a present that I felt aided my search. The woman had tapped an inked needle into the back of my neck, drawing who I was, who they saw me as.
The woman who runs with tigers.
I wasn't sure what she put on my neck, but she assured me that it was who I was.

The next day, I moved on. She had given me a short sarong and a cloth to tie around my chest.
I left the tribe, moving away from the tiger. By that afternoon, I found myself following the tiger. It was leading me on, and I followed it. I was walking, running, to my own death, and I didn't care. My gut told me this was the right way. My instinct led me on, told me not to stop, keep going!

I know this!
I remember this rock!
I had broken my leg when I jumped of it when I was eight!
Elation filled my chest and made me giddy.
It was on the outskirts of the tiger sanctuary!
I was home!
I had actually done it! I had made it home!
My adrenaline spiked, my nerves were jittery.
“Will they know who I am?” Maybe, it had been a long time after all!
“Did I look very different?” Of course, my hair was short and knotted, filled with bugs. My skin was dark with sun and dirt with a heavy burn from this last trek!
“Did they miss me as much as I miss them?” Stupid question dummy! You are their little girl, their baby! It goes without question to think they missed you more than you missed them! All of them. They all raised you!
“Do they think I'm dead?” My heart thumped unevenly.
Tears jumped to my eyes. So much has changed! How different will they look?
“Not enough to turn me away! I'm home!!” I couldn't help the screech of joy that left my throat. Its inhumane ring had birds in a nearby tree scattering.
I took off at a dead run, moving as fast as I could around trees and boulders. It was an uneven gait at first but it soon settled into my tiger's run. After an hour or so the house came into view. The other team member's homes littered my sight as well.
“Mom!” I screamed loudly.
“Dad!” How could the people across the country not hear me?
“I'm home! I'm alive! Mom! Dad!” I ran through the compound, expecting to see everyone at any moment, expecting to see anyone. The desolate grounds did nothing to slow me down. I burst through the door, wincing as it jarred my over stretched muscles. All the running did that to me.
“Mom! I'm here!” The despair nearly overwhelmed me, but I kept moving. It couldn't reach me if I kept moving.
“Dad! I'm okay! I'm home!” My arms were still held up, ready for the tackles I was expecting, as I scented the air. It was stale and dry. It was a bit too clean to have been the same air stinking people and tigers lived in.
I stalked the rooms quietly, wincing whenever I hit a weak board.
“Mom?” It was quiet.
“Dad?” Too quiet.
I stopped in the middle of the living room, my arms dropping to my sides.
“Anybody?” There was a moment there when I thought it was over.
I realized why no one answered me.
No one was here.
I raced to my room, sliding on the dust slicked floors.
I wasn't quite lost to depression. They were probably out looking for me, helping to search the wilderness the plane crashed in. That was it!
'No it isn't. We know that.' The hidden part of me drawled.
'I thought you weren't coming back.' I didn't even pause to take in my surroundings, to take in anything.
'I never left.' I was home, but I was just as alone as ever.

The calender on my wall was given my full attention.
I stumbled over the clothes littering the floor.
It was still turned to the month of May.
'Of course nothing in here has changed!' I pressed my lips together tighter.
'Why would it?' Ignoring her, I trailed my finger along the dates. May 29th: LONDON
“Why would anyone bother to change a calender?” I whispered, trying to force sense into myself.
'They would if they were counting down the days since we'd gone missing...' I forced myself away from her and moved toward the kitchen. I had to physically think about how far I needed to turn to get around corners and how far the kitchen in steps actually was. Everything seemed so different, but the same, like I had been looking in a mirror for years and now the mirror was gone, and I was looking at the real image.
Reaching the kitchen, it took me a second to ground myself from being overwhelmed by all the memories. I spotted the clock sitting off its screw on the ledge of the window. I had been looking at the same clock in May, standing in the same spot, counting down the time until I left for London. It felt like a distant past that was a stranger's, not my own. It felt like an eternity ago, not the few years that had passed.
It was disturbing looking at the device. I almost seemed to forget how to read it. It took me a few minutes to determine that it was 3:36...7 PM on Tuesday.
The 25th.
Of August.
My world shattered around me.
I can't remember falling, but the next thing I realize is that I'm on the floor, crying, slamming my fist against the cabinets. The metal pieces bit into my hands but it didn't stop me. My heart wrenched and I tried to hold in my screams.
I had been gone for less than four months.
I wanted to rip my heart from my chest and shove it down the drain.
How could so much have happened, in such little time?
'Easy, by happening. By taking another step. By living another day. By continuing to exist.'
It felt like so much longer!

My parents wouldn't be home until the first of September if they were still gone on the tiger trip. Who knows where they really were, where they had gone to look for me.
'We know they haven't been looking for us...don't set us up for disappointment.' I refused to believe her. My parents were looking for me, with the entire team, even Chris. The tigers had just left when no one came to tend to them.
'Lies.' She spat. I snarled at her, the vicious sound ripping from my throat, echoing in the empty house.
For three days I examined my house and old life from top to bottom. I dragged my fingers on every surface from the smooth grains of the table with the gashes to the coarse textile of the rugs. I enjoyed the smoothness but found it unconventional. It would be useless when I really needed it.
I made a cup of coffee in the cool ceramic mug with 'FreeLiving' printed on the side. I traced the lettering, mesmerized by the shape of the letters, before I even attempted to make the coffee. I placed four sugar cubes in the cup with the coffee, but had to skimp on the milk as there was none in the fridge which was turned off. I remember that it was the way I use to demand the hot drink and couldn't get through the day without at least three cups of it. Taking a sip, I instantly regretted it. After one tentative sip (and one burnt tongue), I poured the rest down the drain. I tried again with one sugar cube. This was too bitter. I poured this cup down the drain as well, then placed the mug lip down in the sink. I cringed at the sharp 'clink' as the two surfaces met. Everything was so much brighter and louder in this world. Colors were less like real life. The edges were too sharp. The woods were too smooth, too sanded down. All of this screamed 'artificial'!
For those three days, I slept outside in one of the tiger pens.
I was too overwhelmed.
“This is too much!” I pressed my face into the dirt and pulled the deer skin over my head.
How had I expected to just walk back into my old life?
“Everything is different now.”
'No, just you.' I inhaled deeply into the dirt, unable to stand the harsh smell of metal in the house.
“Nothing will ever be the same.” For once, she stayed quiet, no doubt in agreement.

The 29th rolled around, the days seemed to fly by.
'Hadn't it felt like this while...' I fumbled for a word to explain what took place.
'While surviving? No, it felt faster, there was no time for lounging.'
This was the first night I spent in my room.
For the entirety of the day, I cleaned it, I cleaned the whole house. I did it just so I could study and examine everything.
I threw nothing away.
If I had learned one thing, it was that everything has a purpose or use, even if it was not the purpose it was made for. You could always think of a different way to use anything for your benefit.
At night, in the blinding heat, I slept in my bed with the blankets pulled over my head. The deer's skin was clutched to my chest along with Way's jacket. At first I couldn't sleep. It was too bright and the softness of the mattress was discerning. It was just how I remembered it.
I woke, startled, the next morning having dreamed of sharing this pleasure of a bed to sleep on with Waylen.
I cried with his jacket pressed to my eyes.
I screamed and I cried.
And I didn't even try to stop.
I was alone. I was abandoned.
I cried myself to sleep with a raw throat, thinking of the song I didn't know.

It became the deadline.
September 1st.
That was when my parent's team would return. It was a feeling I had, stronger than the urge to run.
The 30th was slower then any other day I had spent in the house. I took a scalding shower, scrubbing my body viciously. I rubbed some floral smelling liquid.
Shampoo.
It was shocking how out of touch I had become in such a short amount of time.
“I really had been in another world, forced to forget everything I had known to learn how to...survive...” I stuttered over the use of her word.
I doused my head in conditioner, shaved my legs and underarms and then scrubbed myself clean for a second time. I had seen pictures of myself around the house and I was astounded at how dark I had really gotten. A picture of me at about 16 had shown me with shoulder length blond hair and alabaster skin. My skin now seemed more of a bark color.
Stepping back into the spray, I let the steam soak into my burnt skin. Afterward, I dressed in shorts and a tank-top, then moved back into the bathroom to stare at myself. Nasty pockmarks from the first sun burn dotted the back of my left shoulder and that side of my neck. My hair was sheared unevenly, falling around my shoulders and my bones protruded a bit too much to be healthy. I tried to peer at the tattoo on my neck, but could only see a part of it, some Chinese characters.
With a fierce cringe, I went about pulling a brush through my hair. I dropped the bugs into the sink and drowned them. I knew I hadn't gotten them all, but a good amount of them were now dead. I left my hair down to dry. I avoided looking at the scabbed wound on my arm or the calloused blisters on my hands and feet.
My breakfast consisted of a bowl of dry cereal and some stale bread that had mold growing on one end. I tossed that end outside for any birds. I sat at the table, staring at everything and nothing. I was still trying to take everything in, still trying to absorb what I had missed. My gaze settled on pictures taped to the fridge. There was a distant buzz that irritated my ears but I tuned it out. One picture was of me, I think, tossed over a man's, Chris's, shoulder. I was laughing and red in the face. My eyes were squeezed shut and my mouth open in a soundless laugh. I jumped up to rip it off the fridge. It reminded me too much of the look on Way's face before I made my mistake. The one next to it was of the same giggling blond haired greened eyed girl sitting with two baby tigers. She was completely unaware of the danger she was in.
'How naive of her.' She drawled. I ignored her, focusing on the sound I could no longer drown out. The buzzing got louder only to cut off at its peek. It was followed by a 'slam' and what sounded like whistling. I was already moving, trying to peer through the sink window. I couldn't see anything, this window only showed a view of two tiger pens.
The front door opened and I dropped to a defensive crouch, inching toward the living room. I was just about there when the front door slammed shut and a man nearly strode into me. I yelped and jumped back, ready to leap away at a moments notice.
My frightened heart thumped wildly, beating adrenaline through my veins.
“Jance! You scared me!” Not as much as he was scared me.
“You're home early? Why?” His face finally registered in my mind. Chris. He was as surprised to see me as I him.
'I really am home.'
'If you can call this a home...' My heart fell apart, at his words not her's.
I could only weakly whisper
“Home...early...?” I touched my fingers to my eyes and lips.
'We told you. Listen, we are here for our own good.' I heaved for air.
Chris placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Jancy? You okay? You look like you're gonna be sick...” I was going to be sick. And this sickness would tear my mind and heart to shreds.
I vaguely felt myself nodding and assumed she had answered for me.
He moved into the kitchen, picking up my empty bowl and placing it in the sink. I flinched at the 'clink'.
“You look so different. And since when has it been possible to get that dark of a tan in London?” I assumed he was making jokes, but it was all wasted on me.
'London?'
'London.'
A wave of panic hit me so hard I doubled over in fear of vomiting.
“Hey! You okay-” I lurched upward, grabbing at his shirt.
“You mean you don't know? Nothing? Anything?” Confusion contorted his face. The grief flashed through my body. Everything that had happened in the past four months played through my mind.
“Know what? What's the matter?”
'Know what Jancy?' She taunted. I couldn't stop the tears and I bit my finger to keep from sobbing. I searched the floor for the answers I needed.
“I can't...this can't be!” Hysterically, I wrapped my arms around myself. Chris looked bewildered.
“What?! What's wrong?!” I turned away, gripping myself together tighter. I couldn't let myself fall apart.
'Fall apart Jancy, he will help us, let him help us.' I sobbed.
“No! I can't! I can't believe it has only been four months. Too much happened! But..., they..., How can they not know? This is just too much!” Chris gripped my arms and turned me around.
“What are you talking about? You aren't making sense!” Everything was wrong! I was suppose to come home and find peace. I was suppose to find comfort. Instead I find I'm...
'A stranger Jancy, in your own body. We need help, give in.' I was heaving for air. Chris was shaking me lightly.
“Jancy, I can't help if you don't say anything!” I pushed him off and slid to the floor, holding my head.
“Shut-up, shut-up, shut-up! I didn't ask you! I'm not a stranger. I'm me. Waylen! What do I do?” I cradled my head and whispered into my knees.
This couldn't be happening.
'But it is.'
I had said that over and over again and to the world, it hadn't happened.
I sobbed relentlessly.
Chris knelt before me, trying to pry my hands away from my face. I fought him off.
“What is going on? What's happened? Jancy!” He sounded near hysterics too. I shot to my feet, towering over him even at my lowly 5'4''. I screamed at him with all my anger and confusion and frustration, choking on my tears, spit and mucus.
“You don't know anything,!” I dashed my fist across my eyes. “How could you ever help me! The one person who could is dead! I killed him! And I'm in hell for it!” In shame and blind anger, I darted off to my room, locking the door behind me and shoving the dresser up against it. I buried myself in my blankets.
'How could this have ever happened?'
'Simple, it happened. By taking another step. By living another day. By continuing to exist.' Then maybe I should stop continuing to exist...