Feral

"Get up!"

I grunted under my breath to an obnoxious command. My head pounded to the sound of cell bars slam open and my eyes lazily flickered to blurred vision -- even the faintest sunlight spearing through the small, barred window above me was not making it any better. Smacking my lips, I could still taste the blood in my mouth -- nauseating, but comforting. It was good to know I was still alive. The concrete floor of the jail cell was still cold. Fortunately I was still able to feel my body.

"I said, 'Get up!'"

A man's voice. I could tell he is coming closer for the sound of his footsteps were becoming more apparent. My vision is still trying to focus, so I could only make out little of his appearance. As of now, I could only see his shoddy, brown combat boots near my face.

I exasperate another grunt as I attempt to lift my body off the floor. I winced at a sharp pain in my ribs and abdomen and fell immediately back onto my stomach. I wasn't sure where or how I afflicted them. My memory seems a bit foggy, at least for now that is.

"Not so tough now, huh?" The arrogance in his voice echoed to my ears. I slowly looked up to find a figure stand over me domineeringly. My vision became clear now -- clothed in shaggy clothes, the man was roughly over 6 feet. In his left hand, he held a dull, worn-out machete stained with old, dried blood. All his face except for his eyes were concealed behind a cat mask. The bland, white mask will not seem frightening alone, but it was intimidating enough on account of how worn out and dirty it looks. I tried to lift myself again, attempting to hiss inaudibly to the soreness.

The masked man impatiently grab a hold of my arms and lifted me to my feet, then he begins dragging me to the exit of the jail facility. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before getting your filthy hands on food that isn't yours to steal." I wasn't able to see it, but I could tell a subtle, evil smirk is splayed across his face. The gruffness in his voice is full of haughtiness and it was starting to annoy me.

"Fuck you.." I exhausted a profanity and spit blood on his mask. He growled and threw me outside of the musky building. Dirt dusted into the air as I made contact to the ground.

"Go home." He begins to turn back into the building. "Before I change my mind." I turned my head to the sound of the doors slamming behind him.

"Tch. Cunt.." I let out a light chuckle and smirked deviously.

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"Oh my God! Carmen!" Desirée exasperated a loud gasp as she opened the door. I stood with a slight hunch, holding my arm as if I had broken it, looking up at her through my eyelids. I wasn't quite sure if she was relieved that I'm okay or worried about my current condition. I'm inclined to believe the latter. "Are you alright? Come in here!" she suggested. I limped my way in and settled on the tired couch in the corner of our small living room while Desirée went to fetch a warm wet rag.

Desirée is one of my younger sisters. The other is Courtney, being the youngest of us all. She came in shortly after Desirée left. The moment she saw me, her eyes moistened and I could tell the tears were beginning to brim her lids. Her mouth slightly agape, she came up to me, kneeled before me, and wrapped me in an embrace. I groaned in pain to her touch and she lets go immediately. "Sorry," she apologized.

"It's fine." I breathed heavily and mustered a smile. She tightened her lips into a small smile and cupped my face in her hands.

I love Courtney. She is my favorite out of my three sisters. She was always there for me. I felt I could be myself more so around her than the others. But she always carried a caring heart. I don't have to ask for her company -- she will voluntarily give me her full, undivided attention. She was just that special. No wonder why our parents favored her the most. Even so, I was never really jealous of her. I can honestly admit that I will do anything for her. I want her to be safe and happy, especially in this God-forsaken world we live in.

I could tolerate Desirée as well. We're not extremely close, but we're not distant either. I could count on her whenever I needed her, though she's very quiet whenever there is an altercation between us, especially between me and Avery.

"And where have you been?" a voice caused Courtney to quickly turn her head towards the source. I shot a look to spot Avery -- arms crossed, leaning against the frame of the doorway that lead to the kitchen. She doesn't seem pleased. But then again, Avery never seemed please with anything, especially when it concerns me.

Avery's the oldest. She's the more uptight one in the family, although I'm pretty sure she means well. Desirée and Courtney seems to look up to her the most. As for me, I try to keep my distance from her overbearing personality and controlling tendencies. Though, it amuses me when I get a reaction out of her by pushing her buttons. She can be too serious sometimes.

"Scavenging," I finally broke the frigid silence.

"Bullshit." She quickly responded with a straight face and hardened eyes. I rolled my eyes in annoyance and avoided eye-contact. "What? It took you a week to find nothing?"

"No. I was in jail." I spoke matter-of-factly.

"For what?"

"Stealing." I shrugged and turned to look at her with boldness. Her eyes widened with surprise mixed with disgust.

"Carmen, you really shouldn't do that," Courtney tried to interfere, attempting to ease the building tension sensing between Avery and I.

"Well, what choice did I have? We have no food. No money. It was just a last resort -- I couldn't let you guys starve," I begin to explain.

"That doesn't justify anything," Avery retorted rather sharply. I locked my jaw to the side at her answer and looked away. "You could've been killed."

Desirée finally returned with a wet cloth and a first aid kit. As she tended to my wounds, Avery and I continued our argument.

"We all could've been killed by now. Need I remind you that we're living under an anarchy? Our lives can be taken away from us any second by those masked assailants without them providing a legitimate reason why," I reminded them. A series of painful hisses resonates from me as Desirée pats my cuts and bruises with the hot cloth. She was tending my face and torso at the moment.

"How come it's always you that gets into this sort of trouble?" Avery straightened up to a vertical stance. Apparently, she wasn't concerned with my predicament.

"Because I'm the only one that's trying." The room fell silent as I felt each of their piercing stares impale me. It was making me uncomfortable, so I tried to ease the edginess shown through their faces. "Listen, game is scarce and winter is on its way. It's only a matter of time before we are left with no food to hunt for. We only have but so much forestry within city limits. The rest of the world is closed off from this desolate civilization. You know what's out there."

"We were all worried sick, Carmen. We were starting to believe that the worst had happened to you.." Courtney's voice trialed off. My gaze softened. That's the last thing that I wanted to make her feel. I never meant for any of them to worry about me so much. I can handle myself and they should've known this by now.

I slightly moved my arm away as Desirée touched a column of fresh cuts along my forearm. She must've discovered it as she searched my body for more wounds to tend to. "You've been marked," she revealed with a hint of disbelief in her tone. She grabbed my wrist to avoid making contact with the gashes, exposing them to the light so that Avery and Courtney could see them.

"It's fine. It was bound to happen sooner or later," I tried to reassure them.

"No, it's not fine! They know who you are now. If you were to commit another crime, even something as trifling as stealing, they could track you down to us and who knows what will happen then!" Avery's voice erupted with a sudden, yet controlled infuriation. I could sense Desirée's and Courtney's stares darting back and forth between me and Avery. Silence fell again once more. Avery and I were staring at each other as if we were holding some sort of staring contest. Her stare was cold and piercing, hardened with an unforgiving frigidness that made her pupils swell with anger. Irritation got the better of me, so I broke my stare, gave a long, tired sigh and breathed a "whatever".

I slowly got up from the couch and limped past Avery to reach the bathroom beyond the kitchen.

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I turned the sink faucet on and as the water ran, I looked up to come face to face with my reflection in the mirror. The mirror hasn't been cleaned, but damn! do I look a mess! I was beaten up pretty bad during my stay at the penitentiary. As I examined my face, I discovered a busted lip, a bruise on my temple, a scratch across the bridge of my nose, and a bloody scab on my forehead. Despite how short my hair is, it is getting shaggier, giving it a moppy look that I despise. I gave my face a cold rinse and treated the rest of my body by wiping it down with a cold, damp rag. I washed my hair underneath the cold water rushing from the faucet and towel-dried it. I combed the tangles out and in due time, it will flatten and I will retain my pixie cut again. I felt more or less refreshed.

I walked back into the living room to find that no one is there. I guess they all went back to their own respective rooms. I limped to my room located at the end of hall leading away from the living room. I changed into some clean clothes -- a worn-out white tank top that harbored a few small holes in them. I found a red and black plaid flannel shirt to wear on top of the tank. I put on a pair of denim harem pants and black combat boots that still seem to be of some use. Before I left the room, I grabbed my pocket knife and my whistle and stuffed them both in my pockets.

Afterwards, I limped back to the living room to retrieve my archery set that was positioned in a slant against the frame of the front door. I strapped the quiver full of arrows across my right shoulder and equipped the hunting recurve bow across my left. As I reached for the knob, I jumped to a voice behind me.

"Where do you think you're going?" It was utterly painful hearing Avery's voice. I straightened up before I turned around to face her. This is nothing new, but I'm tired of going through this same routine.

"Hunting," I simply replied.

"I don't think so. Besides, curfew is about to be in effect."

"And when have I ever abide to curfew?" I scoffed jokingly. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious, Carmen."

"I'll be fine, Avery," I disregarded her seriousness and reached for the door knob.

"I'm warning you -- If you ever get into any more trouble with the Felines, don't even bother coming back." Silence broke out again and it remained quiet for a very long time. I bit my lip and looked at her nonchalantly.

"I'll be back before sundown." She just glared at me, remaining motionless. I took that as her reluctant approval, and with that I walked out the door and began making my way to a forest only a few miles from here.