The Trouble with Tiaras

Chapter 3- Talia

Three weeks after I had decided for the both of us that we would go looking for a probably non-existent camp, we were slathered up to our waists in mud and grime, completely unrecognizable as human beings. We tromped through the pine-needle concealed forest floor, adding leaves and twigs to the collection of muck that encased our heavy Tracer boots. You’d be surprised how easy it is to steal items from those guys.

As Morgan and I paraded through the woods, the sunlight filtered through the trees in an almost enigmatic way. It looked as if it would be dusk soon. We’d need to find somewhere to set up camp.

I stopped us near a large boulder that had been nearly absorbed in pale-green lichen. Bits of rock and leaves were scattered around the edges, but for the most part, the base of the slab was being eaten away by a lush pasture of deep-green moss. A broad tree had networks of roots that draped down one side like a waterfall, providing the perfect cover for me and Morgan to hide in. This was quite possibly the best bed we’d ever had.

I edged my way underneath the infrastructure of the timber, nestling myself into pads of moss. Morgan followed suit, groaning when one of the roots scraped her backside with its armor. She phlegmatically heaved herself to the ground with a satisfied oomph, and began unpacking the contents of her bag. She did this everytime we rested. She was never one to forget things, but when she did, she went nuts. We didn’t have many worldly possessions, but the ones that we did, she kept in a direct line of sight at almost all times. As trivial as it might seem, those things kept her grounded. Especially our rings.

Ever since we were babies we’d had these. I’d been surprised that the foster home hadn’t taken them away or sold them in the black market. They were tiny little things, and they barely fit around our pinkies without getting stuck. They were encrusted with small, fine-cut stones, gray and green. Morgan had gotten ahold of some string awhile back and we had turned them into a sort-of necklace. Morgan wore hers everywhere. I liked to keep mine in my back pocket.

As Morgan dumped the contents of her bag onto the forest floor, she set aside two apples, a canteen of water, and a small roll. Dinner. My stomach growled, right on cue, and I took an enormous bite out of the dry, green apple. My face contorted at its sourness. Definitely underripe. I reached for the dinner roll with my free hand and tore off a piece. hopefully it would be more enjoyable than the sour fruit. I was wrong though. As I bit into the bread, a sliminess ran over my tongue. It was moldy, but no wonder, it had been in that bag for over two weeks. I glanced at Morgan, to see if she had noticed my distaste, but she was still rummaging mindlessly through her pack, clearly looking for something important. Just as I was about to take another bite of the foul apple, her hand shot into the air and a triumphant smile lit her features.

“I found it,” she said ecstatically, waving something rectangular around in the air.

“Found what?” I asked, intrigued with her enthusiasm. Just as I was about to ask again, she peeled back the foil that surrounded the mystery object and a fantastic aroma filtered through the air around me. Chocolate.

“Where in bowels of Evelyn did you get that?” I asked, a small pool of saliva beginning to form in the recesses of my mouth. Morgan chuckled and broke a piece off for me before diving head first into the wonderful epiphany of cocoa beans and sugar.

“It’s a secret,” she said, chocolate flakes flicking off her tongue as she chewed on the treat.

“Well, I’m glad that this whole meal hasn’t gone to waste. The bread and apples are horrendous.” I glanced loathingly at the fruit, whose flavor had yet to withdraw from my tastebuds. The chocolate was helping though.

“We’ve had worse,” she reminded me, helping herself to a second serving of heaven.

She was right. We had had worse. I didn’t need to be reminded yet again of the savagery of the schools. Eat gruel everyday of your life, and then you’ll know what I mean.