Dusk til Dawn

~1~

How much does one value human life? You would imagine that it would be worth something more than a can of simple beans, right? And no, these beans are not magical or something. They are simply a can of half mouldy green beans. I am Sydney Miller, and this is my story.

My mother and father both died when I was young. Being an only child, I became an orphan alone. I lived with my Aunt Mary for the first 5 years after they passed, until I was about six and old enough to survive on my own. This was frowned about by many, a six year old orphan hunting for food and living in a small abandoned shack in the middle of the woods. Mind you, this is a time when young women, scratch that, any women require a chauffeur whenever leaving any premises. When I say chauffeur, I mean portable jail cell, not literally, but the restriction we have is about the same amount a murderer would require in prison. One motto I base my days off easily is ' A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle'. I am a fish without a bicycle and my life couldn't be any better.

* * *

Today marks the 10 year anniversary from when I left my beloved Aunt Mary. 10 years ago today I moved out on my own, living life day by day. To think, 10 years ago, I, a six year old made it her mission to live by herself in the woods alone. Well alone is what people in the village would say. I had my dog. His name is Spot. Basic, yes, but Spot, all those years ago made it his mission to keep me alive. I found Spot when I was 5. I was walking home with my Aunt from my school and I looked down a small alley way and noticed a small puppy, curled up in a ball barely breathing. This puppy was one of the cutest things I had ever seen. It's small brown eyes and knotted muddy fur. My Aunt called him a mutt but I called him Spot. My Aunt dragged me out of the alley, little did she know that my pocket was just big enough to fit the small puppy inside. I warmed him but he fire when I arrived home and watched as the life came back into his small, precious body. I remember the look on my Aunts face, it was a mix between ' I'm going to kill you' and ' you're lucky your family'. Since that very day my Aunt decided her mission was to despise the poor thing and try and dispose of him at any chance she could. Knowing me, she knew the chances of her getting rid of him were slim to none.

I sat myself down by the river bank. Felt the cool water gently wash up against my ankles. This is the exact spot that Spot and I sat when we first arrived in the woods. I sat in this very position 10 years ago wondering what in the world I was thinking to leave my Aunt and move out on my on. Though I knew that if I ever went back wishing for forgiveness and a warm bath, I would prove to all those in the village that truely believed that I wouldn't make it. Look at me now suckers.

The warm but relaxing feeling of Spot licking the side of my face made me fade back into reality. My Aunt would be arriving to my shack any minute now. Each and every year she would come around to the woods for each anniversary to congratulate me on my success, which was pretty much her just saying 'good job, you're alive'. I am not offended at all though, mainly because each time she would come around, she would bring a delicious fresh loaf of bread. And this year, since it's the 10 year anniversary I assume she will bring something extra special. I hope.

I cupped my handing bringing a nice fresh handful of water to my face. I rubbed the dirt off my arms as I watched Spot chase the small fish in the river. Spot is quite clearly not the best hunting dog, but he try's his best. I removed my clothes and let the tender touch of the sun nourish my skin. The river isn't quite deep enough for me to stand fully under water, but it goes to at least my belly button. I pull my body fully under, into the river, letting the water seep into all the creases and crevices. It feels nice to bathe, probably because I only bathe once every few weeks. Though that might sound gross, I bathe much more often than most of the people in the village. Bathing is a privilege for many. Lucky for me I have my own bath the size of a quarter of the village. I make my way back to my spot on the river bank and let the sun dry me. I lay back and look straight up into a gap in the trees. The sky looks so beautiful today. The clouds slowly making their way across the sky. The trees are swaying in the wind and the leaves gently falling to the ground. Spring is my favourite season. Though it is summer now, the falling of leaves is almost as beautiful as it was in Spring. I close my eyes as I listen to the sounds of the woods, the birds singing so beautifully, and the wind whistling through the trees. I find myself drifting off to sleep.