There is so much weight on me. I try to push it off. The weight shifts but it presses down on me. I fight forward, biting, clawing anything. A hand catches air, the leverage is bad. I pull myself up anyways. My skin is scraping but there is no pain. I am free. I stand in my village graveyard. I died. I want more. I demand more. I stand with no clear idea what to do. My right ear is missing.
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Today is a hunt day. I get to go and find meat. If I succeed, I get first cut on the fresh. No betta motivation. I secure my breasts and cover my sensitives. I choose a new spear today, I have multiple. Nice and sharp. No smearing shit on it, hunt today, need to make sure not to taint the meat. Shit spears are for invaders.
I leave with two others, our mothers reared us together. Our mothers hope we will make them grandmothers. I just gag at the thought, bad memories I won't consider. I still prime for hunting and will prove it again tonight. We find trail and markings for meat. One of the others mark the trail to show we claim this hunt. Best to not waste efforts by having more groups after the same meat.
Other who was marking takes a stone to the head. I turn to where it was thrown. Should of brought shit spear after all. I am ready to charge when I am lifted up by the neck. Pain erupts through my chest. I look down to see a blade red in my life.
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I look down and see a hole, my breast are hanging in the wind covered in dirt. Others would of used the cloth. Such things were precious. I need it no longer. I know it is cold. I do not feel it. I do not feel anything. Sound approaches, I only hear from one ear. It is the mourning wails of my people's funeral walk. I turn toward the sound. They see me. I raise a hand. They shriek and run away. I lower my hand. My other hand broke off getting out of my grave.
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They show me weaving. I shook my head. They showed me pottery, I shook my head. They showed me cooking, I was tempted but I shook my head. They showed me harem, and I ran away shaking my head. When they showed me spear, I nodded. Mother just gives me a belabour exhaustion look but allowed me to do what I want. I practice the spear, my mother approval whispered into my ear.
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The snow is falling. I stand still. I accumulate snow. The cold drove away the bugs that were nibbling on parts of me. It also drove them into me, those continue to nibble. My breast are gone, my hips too. My left ear falls off.
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My first kill, I got fresh meat today. Not the dried scraps of before. Mighty spear. I celebrate with brothers. They celebrate too hard. Never again. I keep spear near at all time after.
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Another winter, another winter, another winter, another winter, another, another, another.
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Mother swipes me for stealing dried meat.
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Another, another, another, another…
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My first spear…
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A skeleton stands in a graveyard. They hear nothing, feel nothing. Remember…nothing. They can see. The view shifts, a stone rolls pass feet. Look toward that way. I see invader. Destroy it. I move towards the invader. The words of the invader touch being. A demand, I comply.
