Kaya exhaled, eyes scanning the tree again. Then she rembered—Oh yeah, the freeloaders.
Dragging herself back through the brush, she pocketed the sulking sparrow without ceremony. But the snake?
Oh no. Not a chance in hell.
She wasn’t one of those people—the kind who ward up venomous reptiles in their shirt like it was a sweet fairytale bonding mont. What if the thing bit her in her sleep? What was she supposed to do then? Die dramatically under a tree? Absolutely not.
So she did the logical thing.
Wrapped it. Bound it tighter than a military-grade parachute. Tied it with thick leaves until it looked like a leafy little burrito. Well, a donut-shaped burrito—because she’d left just a tiny hole near its nose so it could breathe. She wasn’t cruel. Just careful.
The climb up the tree wasn’t as graceful as she liked to imagine it would be.
Her ankle throbbed with every move, and her arms scread in protest. But she grit her teeth and kept going, because lying down below, exposed and helpless, wasn’t an option. And if she let herself get soft now—if she let the pain win—then what was the point?
She hadn’t made it this far just to sleep on the forest floor and beco soone’s midnight snack.
After what felt like forever, Kaya finally dragged herself onto the thickest, sturdiest branch she could find. It wasn’t too high, but it was enough—enough to keep her off the ground, away from whatever could be lurking down there. Her limbs trembled from the effort, her legs burning, her ankle throbbing from earlier. Gritting her teeth, she stretched her legs out in front of her, trying to ease the pain.
She leaned her back against the trunk and looked out over the dark jungle. It was quiet. Almost too quiet. But when her eyes lifted to the sky, sothing in her stilled.
The stars.
They were everywhere—clear, brilliant, scattered across the night like shards of light. And in that mont, for the first ti all day, she felt sothing close to peace.
"How beautiful..." she murmured to herself, almost afraid her voice might break the stillness.
This wasn’t the first ti she’d looked up at a sky like this. No, years ago—when everything was different—she’d sat under the sa stars with her team. Back when they were just starting out, full of hope and fire, dreaming about who they’d beco, how they’d protect the people. They were so young. So stupidly young.
"Soldiers, huh..." she whispered bitterly, the edge of a dry laugh curling at her lips.
A tear slipped down her cheek before she even noticed it. Funny how people called them heroes. Brave. Selfless. But when a soldier died, no one really rembered. Maybe a na in the news. A salute in passing. But that was it. People moved on like it ant nothing. Like they ant nothing.
And God forbid a celebrity’s pet went missing that sa day—then suddenly, the whole country had sothing to cry about. The soldier? Just a footnote. His family? Left to grieve alone.
She wiped her cheek, sniffing quietly.
She rembered that night under the stars with her team—laughing, dreaming, thinking they’d all live long enough to make it count.
But one by one, they fell. She’d watched their bodies torn by bullets, their blood soaking the dirt they’d sworn to protect. So much pain. So much loss. All swallowed by silence.
And now, here she was, sitting alone in so godforsaken jungle, injured and starving.
A sudden thought crept into Kaya’s mind—if she died here, in this vast, lonely jungle... would anyone even notice?
Her parents wouldn’t. They’d always saved their love for her sister. Even her little brother—the one she raised, the one she held through sleepless nights—had stopped looking for her when the world did.
He might cry. Or maybe not. Maybe even he’s forgotten how to.
A quiet, hollow laugh escaped her lips.
And if she did make it out? Her parents would probably skin her alive for what she’d done. For killing their "perfect" daughter. Funny, isn’t it? They were the ones who threw her into the battlefield, just so they could feed the rest of the family.
She couldn’t even think of one person who might miss her.
Maybe her old captain. But only to joke, "So, you finally died in the dirt, huh?"
Would anyone even find her body?
Her eyelids drooped, too tired to care. She hadn’t slept in days—running, hiding, bleeding, surviving.
Now... maybe it was okay to just close her eyes. Just for a little while.
But just as Kaya’s eyes began to close—
Chrippppl.
That annoying little sound snapped her back from the edge of sleep. She groaned, half-annoyed, half-amused, and reached into her pocket, pulling out the stubborn little sparrow.
The tiny thing fluffed its feathers and stared up at her with wide, expectant eyes.
Chrip. Chrip. Chripppp.
(Female. I’m starving. Feed !)
Kaya blinked. She couldn’t speak bird. Obviously. But sohow... she understood him. The puffed chest, the impatient hopping, the dramatic chirps—it was unmistakable. He was yelling at her.
A weak chuckle escaped her. "You’ve got so nerve," she muttered.
Still, she reached into her other pocket and pulled out a handful of wild berries, pouring them into her palm. The sparrow wasted no ti, diving into the feast like it hadn’t nearly died earlier.
She watched him eat—so small, so full of life—and for a second, just a fleeting second, her heart softened.
But the mont her heart softened—
Snap.
It froze over again.
That damn bird.
The sparrow bit her finger. Not a peck. A full, angry bite.
Kaya hissed, grabbing the little creature in her fist. Her fingers wrapped tightly around it, her knuckles whitening. The sparrow screeched, wings flailing.
"Chripppppp!"
(Ahhh!)
She didn’t let go. Her eyes narrowed, breathing ragged.
"You worthless thing," she muttered darkly. "For a mont... just a mont, I almost felt sothing."
Her stomach growled painfully, a cruel reminder of the day’s emptiness. She stared at the bird—tiny, warm, trembling in her palm. Not a big al. But maybe just enough to stop her stomach from tearing itself apart.
Just one bite. One snap. No one would know. No one would care.
User Comments
0 comments from readers