Valium- Over the Wall

I landed in a cloud of dust on the other side of the gate hard enough to knock the wind out of my lungs. The gate in the Wall slammed shut behind me with a clang, and I thought I was lost forever. I layed there and cried for a while, and after I had worn myself out, I slept. I slept right there in the road because it didn’t matter anymore where I slept. I had been given that fate worse than death. Death would have been the release I wanted, and no one would care if I got trampled or eaten or died right there. I was no longer me, no longer a person, no longer human. I was an outcast, someone forgotten, banished.

When I awoke, it was dark and beginning to rain. I had the notion to stay where I was and drown in a puddle, but drowning frightens me. To this very day, even though I’ve learned to swim, I avoid even the shallowest of ponds and streams. The forest, the Border Lands, scared me as well, but not as much as drowning. I would still rather be eaten by wild animals than to breathe water into my lungs because I can’t hold my breath any longer. My whole body hurt as I trudged my way up the steadily muddying road, if it can be called such. That road is more of a leftover, overgrown goat path now, but I think that at one point it might have been an actual road.

The trees were menacing and foreign, and the temperature was dropping steadily as I wandered aimlessly into the woods. The foliage blocked me from the worst of the weather, but my thin coat wasn’t going to be of help for much longer. As the night grew darker, I gradually lost sight of the world around me, which turned out to be one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I fell head long into a hole.

It was also one of the most painful things that has ever happened to me. I was already in pain physically and emotionally, but the pain of landing on a stone slab on your head was like nothing I’d wish even on Gralsitor Mayor. Being knocked unconscious would have been a blessing, but I wasn’t. I laying on the stone slab, stunned and unable to move throughout the night. About mid-day, when I’d lost all hope of ever moving again, a person slid down into the hole. This is the end of it now. They are sure to kill me, cook me over a pit, and serve me for dinner to the rest of their companions!

I laugh now at the stupidity of the thought. Standing over me was the kindest, gentlest of faces of the most loving person I’ve ever had the privilege to meet. “Are you alright?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. Between the pain, fear, and joy at seeing this kind, scary person was too much. One tear slid down my cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here. This is no place for a wee child like you. I’ll be back in a little bit with some help.”

A thick, rough, coat landed on top of me, and a few minutes later I began to shiver. Shiver... that’s an understatement. I convulsed uncontrollably. Hypothermia does strange things to a body. It’s a protection against further injury, but it can also kill you. When you get cold enough, you don’t shiver. You just turn blue. As you warm you shake and shiver.

The pain returned to my body as I slowly warmed. I was still shaking violently, and desperately wanted to vomit when the kindly, scary face returned, only this time he had company. The people, how many I don’t know, carefully rolled me over, and the emptiness of my stomach covered the floor. I don’t remember anything else.

I awoke, warm, some time later, in unfamiliar surroundings. I was in clean, if rustic looking, dry clothing that was just a bit too big for me, and lying on a stack of furs in front of a fire. I stared at the flames not comprehending what I was seeing, and not registering anything other than warmth and an odd lack of pain in most of my body. My head was still tender, but I could deal with that. I’d had my ears boxed often enough by the guards in Artur to not have it bother me. I snuggled down as deep into the pallet as I could managed, and dozed on and off. I noticed, vaguely that someone came in and added logs to the fire, but I didn’t care. For once in my life, I felt safe.

My life. It was a new concept for me. I realized in this fit of dozing and wakefulness that I didn’t consider the time I had spent in Artur, in the Wards, as my life. True, I was in someplace that I knew nothing about for sure, with at least one person that hadn’t eaten me, and no idea if I’d live to see the light of day, but I felt safe, and alive for the first time.

I think I tried to stand a few times in that state, but I always seemed to end up back in the same position, with my head on an extra lump of firs, and my body swathed in them. If they gave me something to dull my senses, I could only thank them. Only twelve years old, and on my own, but yet someone was still taking care of me. They still take care of me.

Finally, I awoke fully. I think it was the smell of cooking meat, a rarity in Artur. The smell of anything cooking was a rarity. Real food was a luxury my family could not afford. We were lucky to get scraps enough to keep us alive. A little pot had been added to the fire, and something was bubbling in it. My stomach growled, and I tried to stand.

“Don’t worry. I’ll bring you a bowl.” I opened my mouth to protest that I couldn’t take their food, but the little old woman was already ladling out a bowl. She didn’t look like she was starving, so I didn’t argue.

She was an odd looking woman, but kindly. Her mess of frizzy gray hair was almost pulled up into a bun, and her plump little body was swathed in a strange mix of patchwork petticoats and animal firs. She looked so warm and comfortable.

She handed me a bowl, and smiled sweetly at me. “It’s not human, is it? They told me you people are cannibals.”

She gurgled in what I decided was a laugh, “So, that’s the rumor old Gralsitor is spreading these days! Stuff of nonsense it is! In my day it was two headed monsters!”

I eyed the bowl suspiciously, then took a tentative bite. I couldn’t decide what the meat was supposed to be, but I did recognize some of the vegetables. It was good, but my stomach couldn’t handle more than a few bites. “What is it?”

“Squirrel. Do you like it, love? I made it myself. John wanted to help, but I told him that pulling you out of that dreadful hole was help enough. The poor man. Thinks he can cook, but he’d burn water if I gave him the chance to boil any.”

I nodded, and stared blankly at my bowl. My stomach hurt like the time I’d stolen a whole loaf of bread. I ate until I made myself sick, and I didn’t want to do that again. I wanted to keep eating, but I couldn’t. I’d never had this much food to myself before, not given to me. It was only a ladle full, but it was a whole ladle full and it had meat. Squirrel. Meat. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t give the bowl back to her, but I couldn’t finish what I had either.

“May I... may I keep this for later?”

The woman gurgled again. “Of course. If you’d like, we’ll poor that bowl back into the pot so it’ll stay warm. The wee pot is for you. I wasn’t sure how much you could eat, so I made one serving.” My eyes widened until they threatened to pop out of my head. She gurgled at me again. “It must have gotten worse in the Wards since they threw me over the wall fifty years ago! You must not have ever had so much food to yourself in your life!”

I hadn’t, and couldn’t believe that I did. One whole serving, all to myself. And there was meat. Squirrel. Meat.