She walked silently through the jungle, her long hair tangled her skin tanned and tough. She heard a noise and quickly hefted her spear, she'd wanted a bow and arrow but every attempt she'd made at one had failed. Suddenly a smell wafted under her nose, her stomach growled, her mouth salivated and she nearly fainted with the mere delight of it, TEA!!!!! She hadn't smelled that in years! It made her long for that awful ship, where at least they'd had tea. When her rationality came back to her she was stumped, why was someone brewing tea in the middle of the jungle? more importantly, why was someone in the jungle?
She crept slowly closer, her years of solitude had made her wary of human presence, the only humans she'd met in 14 years had done nothing but try and kill or rape her (but that was another story). But they hadn't had tea, only that sour water father used to drink. By now she could see into the clearing, she looked for the source of the tea but it was no where to be seen. All of the sudden a woman's voice made her glance up, sharply. She gasped, this was the place she'd been searching for, for 14 years! What was this woman doing in her home?!?
In that moment every scrap of human reason she had struggled to hold on to for so many years fled as she let out a wild cry and climbed up the tree faster than any normal human being. A young woman and an old man sat on a lovely cushion by a window, that was her seat, her cushion, her window!! With another wild cry she flung herself at the people. Spear forgotten, she attacked with tooth and claw. Only seconds after the silly woman screamed a wild yell announced the arrival of a scantly clad young man. She turned to fight him too but looking into his eyes she saw her mothers and stood, frozen until a pan came crashing down on her head. As her eyes closed she reached out for her last living family member, Timothy.
Her head pounded, she moaned and tried to feel her wounds, and shrieked when she found she couldn't. She writhed and flipped and struggled to free herself but it was useless. Pausing for breathe, she felt the presence of a person standing over her and thrashed wildly with her feet, shrieking with satisfaction when she heard the thud and then the harsh sobs, she opened her eyes to see who she'd managed to hit and smiled when she saw the silly young woman standing a safe distance away, she looked down at herself and saw that her feet her bound, as well as her hands, which were tied to a post, holding up the roof. She tried to tug it but it was sturdy, she should know she'd helped to build it. She almost cried but the thud of a mans footsteps startled her tears back into her eyes.
It was the half naked man again, her brother, a man, alive! He walked over to the woman, who was still crying, and caressed her face with rough palms. She burned with jealousy, she hadn't seen her brother for 14 years and he was ignoring her! She shook her head and reminded herself that he didn't know who she was. Timothy looked over at her, alerted by the movement, and walked over. Crouching down, he said in rough patchy english, "I Tarzan, who you?" The name startled her, this wasn't Tarzan, this was Timothy, her little Timmy. She just stared at the woman and then back at him. He stared into her eyes for a second, and she hoped he'd recognize her but he just stood up and walked over to the woman. He whispered in her ear and she nodded and left the room.
He walked to a small cupboard made of tree bark, the very one mother had kept the matches in, so they wouldn't get wet. he didn't take out matches, but a mango, which he tossed casually in the air before grabbing a knife and walking over to me. Seeing the sharp glint of the metal I gasped and tried to wriggle free once more. Seeing this he stopped and spoke slowly, as if to an animal. "No hurt you, be good." My feet itched to run but I forced myself to still, he crept forward on crouched feet and slowly brought the knife to the rope binding my hands, and with one deft motion he sliced the cords and blood rushed back to my fingers, i sighed in relief and shook my head, trying to resist the urge to strike out at my captor. he smiled a crooked smile and asked me again, "Who you?" I opened my mouth and rasped the first words i'd spoken for 12 years, "Claire."