Breeder Nation

CHAPTER FIVE ~MADDIE~

I wake up in a panic, hearing voices outside my window. With my entire body shaking, I slowly climb out of bed and tiptoe over to the window. The voices have stopped, but I can hear light footsteps. A twig snaps outside, and I tense, screwing my eyes shut, holding my breath. Shit, shit, shit.

After a few moments of silence, I slowly let out the breath I've been holding in, relaxing slightly. Deciding to brave a peek outside, I carefully peel back the sheet covering the window inch by inch. Looking out, I meet another pair of eyes staring back at me. A scream rips from my throat before I can stop it. It's a deer. "Dammit, damn you!" I yell. Stupid animal. I know it's not his fault, well... yes it is, and I feel like being mad about it.

I heard voices though, didn't I? It was probably a dream. I was half asleep when I jolted out of bed after all. If there had actually been someone out there, I don't know what I would've done. I still can't believe that damn deer; he scared me half to death. I smile at myself. In retrospect, it was pretty funny.

I might as well get ready for the day now. There's no way I can fall back asleep feeling as jittery as I do. I pull on a pair of jeans–another cool thing about this house, the closet is full of clothes and shoes. The clothes are a little tight and the shoes a little loose, but I can't complain. The people who used to live here must have left everything behind; it doesn't appear as if anything is missing.

I tear the sheets away from the windows and look outside. The sun is just rising, casting a soft glow across the yard. The deer is nowhere in sight.

After eating a quick breakfast, I step outside onto the back porch and take a seat on the steps, hugging my knees to my chest. It's pretty cold out here for a summer morning. The sounds of chirping birds fill the air. The adrenaline and excitement of this morning's events are already wearing off as the loneliness I've become familiar with creeps its way back in.

I take a deep breath, letting out a long sigh. The monotony of my days is starting to get to me. Wake up, get dressed, eat, sit on the back porch watching the morning pass, gather food, hang out by the river half the day, eat again, and go to bed–that's my day, every day, for the past two months or so. I'm not sure I can take it any longer. I'll have to pack up and leave soon, I just have no idea where I should be looking, if I should continue east or change my direction and head north. I could have passed the free nation months ago for all I know, if there even is a free nation to begin with. At this point, the doubts have eclipsed any optimism I ever had of the free nation existing, but I'd rather charge into the unknown than continue living in this state of nothingness.

Standing up, I head back into the house feeling resolved. I'll only stay another few days; it's time for me to get moving again.

I gather all my dirty clothes and toss them in a duffle bag to take with me down to the water. I'll rinse them and lay them out to dry while I bathe in the river. Throwing the bag over my shoulder, I leave the house, wanting to switch up my routine for the day.

It only takes a few minutes to get down to the river, and I drop the bag next to me as I take a seat on the ground. Opening the bag, I dump out its contents, grabbing the shirt at the top of the pile, and inch myself closer to the water. I dunk the shirt, scrub it, rinse it again, and lay it out across the nearest bush, then take my time repeating this process until the pile of clothes have disappeared and are scattered across the greenery to dry.

I stand up and take a look around the open space before stripping off my clothes. While I'd usually go in with a shirt and underwear on, I'm feeling adventurous today. The deer drama of this morning has me craving more excitement. I back up a few feet, run, and jump into the water with a yelp. The water is freezing, and I start swimming upstream, trying to warm myself up.