6In her mind was a sense of regret and a swarm of thoughts. She ran as much as her numb limbs would allow, but her distance would be limited.
They were after her.
She was so foolish to resist them, to resist everyone. But in her heart, she knew it was supposed to happen.
Tears blurred her vision, shortened her breath. She fell to the ground and cried out to God. There, pounding the ground and screaming, she was found. There were only a few of them, but they had her easily. They were no extraordinary people. They were clad in dull, expressionless clothing, more suitable for working than a personal statement. They're eyes were not filled with hatred or blood lust. They weren't even filled with the slightest bit of malice. They were blank, and slight smiles accompanied their pallid faces, gleaming at her like a science experiment dying from some gruesome side effect.
"Please". she breathed, but she decided it would be pointless.
They said nothing, gestured nothing. She realized they were nothing. They had intelligence, personality, same as any other human being, but in instances such as this... they had become mindless machines. It was The Way.
One man grabbed her arm and pulled her up from the ground.
She let out a yelp of fear, and squirmed at his touch.
"Quiet, girl." he barked at her, and the first bit of emotion leaked through.
Expectancy. Impatience.
Once this entered her head, she shuddered with her crying, and earned herself a slap across her cheek.
"I said quiet."
I have a name. She wanted to tell them. It's Millie. Recognize me. But she only watched their eyes observe her small body.
She suddenly felt embarrassed more than fearful.
I am dirty. She scolded herself. My hair isn't brushed, either. I didn't wear makeup. I'm not standing up firmly enough. Perhaps they will kill me, instead.
She straightened her stance, and the man tightened his grip slightly.
"We will start now". He said, and the men proceeded to undress.
Her heart beat frantically, glad that they wouldn't kill her, but mortified of what would happen next.
"You will start... too". He added, tugging at her dress.
She shook uncontrollably, staring in the speaker's eyes with disbelief.
He is Father's brother.
"Start."
His face was stone.
"No."
All the men shifted their heads towards her. It was clear they were shocked; like an army who had just lost their commanding general, they were confused, didn't know what to do.
Resistance never happened.
She looked far from brave. Tears wet her face, giving her cheeks streaks of cleanliness against her sooty face. Her clothing was baring and only what was necessary, tattered and untended to. She was skinny, underfed, and had sunken eyes from lack of sleep.
She hadn't slept in weeks, not since she had her first event of coming age. When a girl first showed signs... signs that she was able to reproduce, it meant the beginning of your adulthood, and the end to the innocence of your childish mind. It also meant it would happen. It would come in the night, and then once it came you'd wake up the next morning. You'd be a woman, and you'd be respected. Then, you'd be eligible for marriage, and you'd bear children. You could contribute.
No one wanted to marry a girl who had resisted The Way. Before the event of age, one was seen as inexperienced and unfit for the tasks of a woman. If she had managed to escape and return alive from the woods the next day, no one would acknowledge her. Doors would shut, heads would turn the other way, and even family would consider her beast meat.
That's who... that's what she was now, beast meat.
"We said to start, girl. Do not make this complicated. We will give you another chance. Next time we break your legs and leave you for beasts."
"Beasts..." she echoed, realizing the situation in full.
"Yes." her uncle unnecessarily replied.
She tentatively touched the strap of her dress. She couldn't bear the thought, much less the action, of making herself naked in front of these men. It was The Way, but she knew it. She knew it hadn't always been this way. Things like this used to be about love... her mother had said so...
"Start".
"Yes..." She shakily agreed, but her hand would not move.
He took action and began to strip her. She shut her eyes tightly and counted.
One... two...
She felt a hand on her bare stomach, and she supressed the urge to scream.
Three... four...
Her uncle gently pushed her into the soil.
Five... become a woman.
Six... become a woman.
She couldn't breathe. Her ability was taken from her. Did he do this? Did they take it?
Seven become a woman.
Is this what it is?
Become a woman. Become a woman.
Suddenly, her uncle peered up. The other men did the same. A young man walked into view, but not into hers; she had shut her eyes so tightly, too afraid to open them. She didn't even listen to the voices as they spoke. She had locked herself away.
"Son. Why are you here?"
"I heard... Millie is of age..." His voice was cautious and soft, not gruff like the other two men and her uncle's.
Her uncle stood up briefly, confident that the girl would not move in her mortification.
"Yes. Soon she will marry. Very soon. And as you know, only women may marry. She is not a woman yet... but soon, Andy, you may have her for your wife."
"What if..." His voice faltered considerably, almost like he had given up on the idea. He coughed awkwardly. But his knuckles were white with determination. When his words came out the second time, they will filled with intent.
"What if I took her with me now?"
Millie's ears perked. But she remained in fear.
To the boy's surprise, his father did not reprimand. He stroked his gruff beard with muddled thought.
"It will make little difference... It will be done either way. " He struggled with that idea, but continued.
"This isn't normal, Andy. Off with you!" The boy flinched with his father's sharp tone, but didn't move from where he stood otherwise.
"This girl... she is stupid. She doesn't understand anything about the world of women and their responsibilities! Look at how she shakes and cries like a mongrel! She must be shown before she can comprehend anything enough to be your spouse."
"I will take her as my wife now." The boy named Andy approached the shriveled girl, and lay a hand on her shoulder.
Andy's father did not object, though his face was contorted with anger at his disobedience. His comrades and he were filled with uncertainty.
"Goodnight, father." He scooped up the crying girl like an animal.
"Andy." The boy looked back at is parent.
"Yes?"
His father's face had become dark. He stood, brandishing his discarded shirt like a weapon. He shook it vigorously as he spoke.
"What kind of man are you? I had pride in you, I did! You were strong, I thought. You are naught. Not my son, and begone with you!"
The adolescent had already begun to ignore him. Though, cruel as it was, he allowed his eyes to well with tears, and his throat to burn with silent screams. He wasn't a man, never had been. He had hoped Millie would give him that honor herself. He looked down at the limp, broken body of the girl. Her sobs were now choked breaths, but her shaking did not cease.
"What kind of man are you, Andy!?"
He rubbed dirt from her face, only stopping to look back at the life he would once remember faintly. He thanked Millie for giving him the courage.
"What kind of man!?"
Andy did not respond, did not even let his face falter from bravery, and walked away into the darkness of the forest.
She refused to look upon her captor.
No matter the amount of kindness he put into his voice, she couldn't belive she wasn't still in the clearing, her uncle and the men staring at her, waiting... for her to become a woman...
One two buckle your shoes three four I can't count anymore...
"Millie... please eat. I can't have you fainting on my hands, not after you just came to."
She remained shut in her curled up state.
Five six what's that noise? Is it Uncle? They've changed their minds and found us oh God please don't let them take me five six five six...
She felt his calloused hand on her back. "Millie, don't be frightened, it's just a squirrel scampering through the woods."
She curiously peeked one eye open without him seeing her progress. Leaves were thrown ontop of her, strewn in her hair, and she could see out of the corner of her eye that a dull and tattered blanket had been keeping her warm throughout the night.
Night.
That's true. It was no longer night. Morning sun streamed through the treeline like an angel's beckoning, and making the tips of her brown hair shine like white gold. The boy crawled around to her face, and she shut her eyes tightly again, sending her vision back into darkness.
"Millie. It's me, Andy. I am your cousin. We played as tykes."
Yes, she had remembered him; Andy. He was a handsome boy old enough for marriage but young enough for a child's heart. She was slightly younger than he, about six years. She remembered her age was fourteen. Nevermind. Five years. Andy was nineteen.
"I won't hurt you." He whispered close to her face, warm breath touching her chilled cheeks. Then he nervously peered around, making sure he was alone before he whispered his next words.
"I don't like The Way, either, Millie."
She tried to look upon his face. Her eyes squinted open.
"There you go, Millie. C'mon have some breakfast. I roasted rabbit." He nudged her, attempting to be casual. It was a tempting offer, and the scent of the cooked meat made her stomach churn hungrily.
She watched bugs crawl around on the fallen leaves by her face, but did not rise. She wasn't afraid of Andy. He had always been a kind soul to her. But her legs remained as formidable as mud. Her body shook with trauma. What if they still lurked in the trees, watching her?
Seven eight lay them straight he took off my dress he lay me on the ground pinned couldn't move seven eight seven eight lay them straight...
"A-Andy..." She muttered. He happily responded to her.
"Yes, Millie? What is it? Were you hurt?"
"Your father... is he gone...?"
"We are far away from Village, Millie." He slightly laughed. "Look around."
She rose, her blood rushing, making her still flimsy, but she rose. She took in the surroundings, and gasped.
Rocky outcroppings dotted the landscape, and clouds hung here low to the ground. The soil was different here... she took it in her own palm. It was dark brown and rich. Not like Village soil, crusty and light in coloration. Now she was curious. She wearily stood, almost fell, and gained support under her arms from Andy. He gingerly held her weight, and led her to a clearing from the trees.
The forest thinned out into a plain on the horizon. Beyond her sight, mountains stood dominantly. Flowers bloomed fearlessly against the seemingly rough domain. It was serene, quiet, away.
"Andy...?"
"Millie... I will build a hut here. There is stream of water nearby. There's plenty of untouched game here. Village.. is behind us now. We can... live together."
Millie brushed hair out of her eyes. The breeze caught the loose strands and blew it back in her face despite her effort. She looked at her new companion unsurely. Just how far away were they? Had he really carried her that long? See glanced back at his makeshift camp. It was simple but provable, with strewn blankets, a few clay dishes, and Andy's spear. A fire was smoldering. Rabbit meat lay beside it wrapped in cloth, its hide thrown carelessly off to the side for future use. It was overt he had prepared when he took her from the forest... or perhaps he had traveled back to Village during the night and stolen from his home? She had no doubts of his capability. But there was one question she could not escape.
"What of The Way, Andy?"
His eyebrows furrowed. "That will not be an issue." he replied. "You will never have to see anyone from Village again. But..."
"But what?"
"I.." He blushed. "I suppose I will make you my wife. I need someone to help me, Millie. You can keep me company... you have strong love. I've seen you watching the tykes, the way you handle them gently, unlike their mothers who sling them around. We can bear children of our own, and-"
Millie began to back away.
This future... is becoming forced upon. She thought. It is no different here with Andy than in Village.
Andy read her eyes, sensed her fear. He grabbed her wrist instinctively. "Wait.." He began.
"Only if you want. We will take it at your pace."
She had never had leverage against a man before. It was strange, how he treated her like a man. He listened to her words. He did things to prevent her pain. Wouldn't he treat her like a woman?
She softened her resistance. Something told her to run, but she didn't have the strength. Children? Marriage?
"I will show you a different way." Andy offered. "A different way..."
He fell into her presence. Soon there was hardly any distance between them.
"I have always wanted you for my wife." Andy continued. "I always planned... to take you, take you away from there I mean, where you could be happy. Where... we could be happy... together."
Her face heated so much she no longer shivered. She had always admired Andy from her hut, chopping wood and building other huts for the people in Village. She admired his strong body... even now. His muscles defiantly protruded out from his shirt. His skin was olive colored, his hair and eyes the dreamy color of earth. His kindness was his starring feature, however. She dreamed back to times where he would fix broken tools she had accidentally damaged, allowing her to escape danger with Father. He had handed out his crusties to tykes whining on the ground, beaten by their mums and deprived of dinner as further punishment. If anyone were to marry her, she would want it to be a kind soul such as Andy. And now... here he was, offering her even further kindness...
A marriage proposition. But how would they marry? There was no way for an officiating ceremony.
"If I were to become your wife," she began, "how will...?"
He took her by the hand gently. "Forget the customs of Village. We need not a wedding to remind us of our dedication. If we know it in our hearts to be so, then no ceremony is needed."
Wind tousled their hair wildly, and made Millie shudder. It was quite chilly, but her cheeks were dangerously warm. Andy smiled as he gazed upon her blushing complexion. She had never kissed a boy before. But as Andy took her by the waist, she felt a sense of safety in his grasp, and he allowed his lips to graze hers in a tentative first movement. He backed away, unsure of her reaction, but Millie only responded passionately. Millie cried with happiness. There, on the hill, with the wind as their officient, they embraced and solidified their future as husband and wife.
She laughed with tears in her eyes. "Mother, tell me again, please."
"Vera." The woman acknowledged. "I have told this story countless times, and it is past your bedtime. It is so late your father has already returned home."
"Please?" Vera was a small tyke with snaggled teeth and a dirty, freckled face. Her hair was a smooth brown, that sometimes shined like white gold on sunny days.
"I love the story, Mother. It is my favorite. Tell about Village."
The woman gave in. "Very well, you mischievous tyke." She touched her child's nose playfully. "But then, bedtime."
Vera giggled, happy to have gotten her way. "Yes, Mother."
"One night your father had a dream that frightened him. He told me that he had gone back to our old home to find everyone dead and gone. He decided he had to go back."
"Oooohh..." Vera whispered mystically.
"He looked for his mother." the woman added, "Your father loved his mother very much."
"Yes, he left her behind so he could save his love." Vera said thoughtfully, remembering the stories.
"His hut was stil erect. But it was very worn down. There were claw marks everywhere." The mother raised her fingers in narration. "Beasts had taken them."
"Beasts!" Vera cried, melodramatically acting out her story. She hide under the blanket of her cot and squealed. "Beasts be getting you!"
"Come out of there you yummy tyke." The woman laughed and imitated a growling creature, pulling her child by the legs. "And then, he found his mother, and she-"
"She be dead. All gobbled by them beasts, and she be awful tore up. Poor pap, seeing that."
"Yes..." The woman's tone changed. "It's sad. But his father was still alive. He was half eatan, but alive."
"Oooh." Vera grimaced, imagining. But she loved the way her mother never censored the reality of it all.
"He saw his son. He had been a mean father. He asked for his help. 'Help me son, savages have killed us all!'".
"Did he help?" Vera asked, smiling and knowing the answer.
"Your father said these exact words..." The mother dreamily spoke.
"What kind of man are you?" The voice was not her mother's.
Vera giggled with the ending. She looked up, seeing a figure in the doorway. "Father! Oh, Father! Guessing you heard the story! How you took that spear and put your pap outta his misery like a cattle!"
Behind her, her father stood, grinning lovingly. "Millie, come to bed. You're exciting her far too much with your wild storytelling."