Copyright © 2020 by Seven Rue.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
To the ones I now call friends.
Thank you for your endless support.
You know who you are.
I’ve been walking barefoot for hours. Days, even.
I was tired.
Hungry.
And my mind was slowly shutting off.
I needed a bed.
Sleep and food.
But in the midst of Tongass National Forest, it was hard to find some kind of civilization.
I had to run away.
It wasn’t my choice.
My step-dad made me do it, and if I had to choose between staying with him and walking through a forest for days, I’d still choose this.
But next time, I’d be smart enough to pack more food.
More clothes to keep me warm at night, and a pair of boots that resisted endless miles.
There was no time to create a checklist before leaving though.
Bringing a map with me didn’t cross my mind, but then, reading a map while walking through a forest with no road signs wasn’t easy.
I just hoped that soon I’d come across a road.
It was getting late, and the sunlight didn’t break through the trees anymore.
I had only about one more hour until it was fully dark, but luckily, I brought my flashlight to help me see.
See.
That’s one thing I was able to do just fine.
Hearing was another sense that wasn’t taken from me after birth.
It had always been hard for me to explain to people why my hearing was perfectly fine, but couldn’t speak.
After birth, nothing could be heard when I cried.
The doctors soon found out that my vocal cords couldn’t produce any sound due to a lump.
They made quick work of it and cut that lump out, leaving me with no capability to ever talk.
It’s not that talking was something I would’ve wanted to do anyway.
My screams for help would be silenced by his rough, big hand, and when he used his belt to hit me on every possible part of my body, no one would ever hear anything other than the belt hitting my skin.
Torture.
That’s what I went through for most of my life.
But thinking about it only made me weak, and I had to stay strong to survive the wilderness.
I was okay for now, but I needed to find shelter.
Another hour passed, and I was getting more exhausted.
Why didn’t I just take the next plane out of Juneau?
Fly some place where I could start over?
Start a new life.
I still had bruises on my legs from the last time his belt hit me, and thankfully, bruises were all I got from him.
He didn’t take anything from me I couldn’t get back, but he did cause pain I couldn’t forget about.
I felt gravel under my bare feet, and I pointed the flashlight down, widening my eyes as I realized that I finally arrived at a hiking trail.
My heart rate picked up, and the excitement inside of me grew.
This would lead me to a main road, and on a main road, there’d be cars driving by.
My steps got quicker although the little pebbles under my feet hurt.
I shined my flashlight straight ahead, seeing how the small path winded in front of me.
I couldn’t hear anything around me, just the wind blowing through the trees.
But then, out of nowhere, a cabin appeared on the side of the path.
I started running.
Happiness started to grow inside of me for the first time in days, and as I reached the front door, I started banging on it.
They wouldn’t hear me if I’d tried to scream.
Hell, just the thought of screaming made my throat hurt.
I kept banging my fists against the wood, but the longer I tried to get someone’s attention, the more hope I lost.
There was no one inside.
I should’ve realized that due to the lack of lights inside.
Maybe they were already sleeping.
I knocked a few more times, then gave up and sighed.
In my case, a sigh meant blowing air out of my nose loudly.
Looking around, I decided that I couldn’t leave.
Not after finding a place to sleep, and I was sure this cabin had everything I needed.
Probably wouldn’t have any food, but at least a bed. Or a couch.
And if those things weren’t available either, I’d at least have a roof over my head and walls protecting me from wild animals around me.
I walked around the side of the cabin to make sure I was alone, and after peeking through the window into the dark living room, I lifted my fist, ready to slam it against the glass.
Stupid idea, Echo, I thought.
I needed my hands in case someone did appear and knew sign language.
That’s how I communicated since I was little.
My mother taught me, and then, in school, I had a special teacher just for me to help me communicate with other kids and adults.
My step-father didn’t know how to sign, and that added to the fact that he didn’t care about me or what I thought about things.
He decided for me, and there was nothing I could do.
I tried to write notes, but he ignored them.
Threw them into the trash the second he saw them, without ever reading them.
I turned around to look for a rock I could break the window with, and sure enough, I saw one that was big enough to use.
I picked it up and stepped back, then threw it against the glass.
The noise it made was loud enough to scare any animals away, and once I was sure there was no one inside, I picked the pieces of glass off the frame, then climbed in.
Once inside, I looked around with my flashlight.
I was standing in the living room, and the animal furs all over the walls and floor told me that I was in a hunter’s cabin.
Hunters were around often at this time of year, so maybe there was some food around.
And maybe, he’ll be back soon.
After taking in all of the three bedrooms and bathrooms, I moved over to the kitchen and started to open the cupboards.
There were enough plates and glasses to set the table for a family of six, and to my luck, there were also some cans in the cabinets.
Beans and ravioli.
I could live with that.
My hunger kicked in, and I didn’t really care about anyone coming in at this point, so I opened both cans and emptied them into a small pot to heat them up.
The stove worked as well.
There was for sure some guy living here a few weeks a year, but for now, it was my turn.
While the beans and ravioli heated up, I grabbed the thick, wool blanket off the couch and placed it over the broken window so the wind wouldn’t cool this place down even more.
I hung it over the curtain holder above the window, and to my luck, it covered up enough of what I broke.
Dinner wasn’t that good, but at least my stomach was full.