~~~Superstes~~~UNDERGOING MAJOR EDITING

Blown to pieces.

The first thing I felt when I woke up was a dull, fiery ache in my hip. I ignored it and sat up, sore, tired, and longing to see my mother. 

Oh, wait. 

I was in a place I grew up in--an avatar longhouse. A few other injured warriors, or avatar bodies, were lying in the beds around me, bandaged up and attached to multiple tubes and wires, IV's and blood transfusion bags. I looked to my right--hanging on the headboard of my cot was a clear bag of red liquid. Leading down from it was a thin tube, entering the vein in my arm. I was also connected to an IV stream that was dripping into my wrist. 

On my waist was new, clean white bandages wrapped around the whole of my midsection. My butt was supported by a couple of fluffy, silk pillows. The paint across my body had been washed off and my braids had been undone, replaced by a low ponytail. 

Resentment bubbled up inside me, making my blood hot. "Mom?" I called, hating the fact that I even called her that. "Trudy?" 

The woman came through the dim entrance of the cabin-like structure, a pained look on her face. She knows that I know. "Hey, baby..." 

"Don't call me that," I snapped, "ever again." 

Slowly, she nodded. "Okay...but--Fe'ya, I'm sorry. I wanted to keep you safe--It was selfish, but I had to keep it a secret."  

"You didn't keep it a secret from everyone else," I slumped against the headboard, crossing my arms and ready for the fight. "Do you know how many people had to lie to me because of you?" 

Trudy walked to the edge of my bed. "I did it for your own good." 

"I had to grow up wondering why my father never played with me, talked with me, teach me how to fight...instead, I watched you kiss Norm. You--you didn't ever let me have my dream hunt, I never got to tame my ikran--I was completely isolated. I'm an Omatikaya, Mom."  

She gazes at the floor. "I never wanted that for you. I was just so afraid that you'd be taken again. I couldn't let you out of my sight." 

"You should have gotten over it. You should have found me a real family, with real parents, and real siblings." 

This time, she looks at me, tears falling from her brown eyes. "What?" 

"You heard me. Go away, Mom. I don't want you here." 

She reaches out to me, "Fe'ya, you don't mean that--" 

"Yes, I do!"

Heavy-limbed, Trudy Chacon stifles a sob and jogs out of the house, leaving me to myself and my feelings. I place a hand over my face and sigh deeply, because I'd just ruined my relationship with my mother. It's what I wanted--it's my fault, but somehow, I wished it ended differently. No matter how angry I was, I shouldn't have said that. 

A filthy, sweaty warrior walks through the opening with his bow in his hand. His braids are woven tight to his skull. He goes to the tables and grabs a roll of tape, stripping a piece off, and placing it onto his broken arrowhead. 

"Are we winning?" I ask bluntly, avoiding his surprised stare. 

He sets the tape down. "Yes." 

My insides leap with relief and hope. "We are? Oh, my gosh. Thank goodness." 

Despite having strong warriors and a smart leader, I didn't have much faith in the clan to defeat our homeland. It wasn't that they couldn't, I just felt like the sky-people would easily crush us. But then I remembered Neteyam's Toruk--surely, that must have filled the warriors with some eagerness to take down the enemy.