The Heartwarmer

Chapter 9

The sunlight hit June's face and pierced her eyes. Her eyelids burned a fierce red, and she did not like it. She could feel a headache coming on even before she completely woke up, and she knew it was going to be a crappy day. The stink of the dirty mixture of sand and salt made her nauseous, mixed in with the rotting smell of the tide.

She got up and tested her leg. It got better and better every day now, thanks to a weird medicinal bush that Luke recognised from an encyclopaedia.

Who even read encyclopaedias anymore?

Although, June definitely didn't complain. Her wounds were healing fast, and she predicted that the scab would disappear in a couple of weeks. Her ankle was fine now, but she didn't want to test its limits. Although, she was most relieved because now she could share some responsibilities with Luke. She hated being the victim.

June hadn't excercised for so long. This morning, even though she hadn't even had breakfast yet, she felt grease beading on her skin; fat oozing from every pore. She almost refused the bite-size fish that Luke brought her every day without fail. But her stomach made it clear that it needed food. Normally, she would eat, like 5 or 7, but today her insides were replaced with a vacuum, a void. Today, the fish tasted like it smelled; rotten, fishy, but above all, it smelled like the realisation that it was once alive. It was alive, and Luke killed it. He gutted it, chopped its head off, and spread its blood all over his hands. It wasn't his fault, of course, he had only done it so that June could eat. So basically, it was her fault. Her fault that the fish was dead. That its head was missing from its back. Now it was in her stomach. Making her sick.

Suddenly, it hit June.

There was a reason for everything, and there definitely was one for June's dark thoughts.

She abandoned her half-eaten breakfast and ran towards a small grove of bushes a little beyond the lake. She put her hand between her legs, and her fingers came out red and wet, just as she expected.

Her heart raced with fear and desperation. June almost screamed in frustration. But she didn't know what to be angry at. She knew that it was bad if she didn't get her period, but it was a huge problem now that she did.

Her pattern was erratic at best, and she could count the number of times she got her period on one hand, after being ship wrecked. But her body just had to embarass her and put her in an impossible situation.

June's relationship with Luke was still recovering, but at least it was getting better by the day. She didn't want to test both their limits by placing a certain bleeding reproductive organ between them. She didn't know how to cover the stains. She didn't know how to respond to Luke about them.

Hot tears began to form behind her eyes, but turned ice cold when they touched the air. Thankfully, they didn't run down her cheeks.

But crying wouldn't help solve her problem. She needed a solution, a temporary fix--

"June? You there?"

Shit.

"Uh, yeah. I'll be right there." Came her shaky reply.

Please go away, please go away please please.

But the dry leaves weren't rustling anymore, which meant that Luke stayed right where he was.

The tears resurfaced and spilled down her cheeks. Why was this whole scenario so unideal? Why was her life this complicated? Why was she born a girl? Why did her body hate her so much?

June sniffed hard, and cringed. She did not want Luke to know that she had been crying. She wiped her face on her sleeve.

That's it! Her sleeve!