we've all got demons [sisterhood vs 3 buffalo; day 1]

owen {♔} bowers-fox

The knife flies from my hand and it seems that time has stopped. My breath is caught in my throat until the blade sinks itself deep into the chest of the animal, and as I exhale, it falls to the ground. I turn to face Charlie, satisfaction setting into the smirk across my face as I ask, “So Charlie, was that hit good enough for you?” However, before I can get a rhetorical reply and a fist to the face, her knife embeds itself in the second beast’s chest, and the smirk falls from my face in the same way the animal falls to the shifting sand. I bite my tongue and hope that my question didn’t make it to her ears before picking up my rucksack and the miscellaneous items that have fallen from it.

After collecting the bits and pieces of my ragtag collection of items, I sling the pack over my shoulder and turn in time to see the last remaining buffalo head straight toward Aelia. A warning desperately tries to make itself heard, but gets caught somewhere between fear and hesitation as I shut my eyes, not wanting to see the animal hurt Aelia anymore (I can’t open my eyes now; I don’t want to see the scene that could be unfolding itself before my eyes). However, there’s a clash of metal and a strangled cry, and as slowly as possible, I open my eyes to see the animal fly past Aelia, followed by her unrelenting determination to get away from the area. I couldn’t agree more with her idea of escape, so I jog after her, stumbling a bit as I make my way over the scarlet-stained sand.

Guilt floods through my veins as I see the pain etched upon Aelia’s face. It pours out from the gash on her cheek and the fear in her eyes and the only thing I can think of is that it should be me that should have taken deep cuts and gashes. So I turn my vision from her to Darius, to Charlie, but I can’t get any relief because they’re all hurting and I am not. And it’s not fair. But there’s nothing I can do to help at this point besides letting the words I want to speak dissipate into the air, and I remain silent as I trudge along behind Aelia, unwilling to make the matters worse than they already are. In fact, no one’s saying anything besides Darius, and even his words are short lived, hanging around momentarily, quickly falling apart letter by letter as we leave the cacti and head toward who-knows –what. But where we are headed doesn’t matter much, for whatever direction we turn will face us with challenges just as bad or worse than the one beforehand, and nothing can prepare us for whatever we stumble upon next.