Myself

I will probably never know what was discussed between the five of them. But when they were done, Kara, Kylie and Kate left to their own camping site. Clara and Sophia were visibly shaken to their core. There were only a few things they needed to tell us from Kylie.

First, Alex’ plans for this section was indeed to help him defend the area. Second, Sophia was still in command of organization of it, but Kylie would advise us further. Third, Sophia and Clara had promised to Kylie to take work off the shoulders of Alex by actually defending the area. Fourth, as a warning to themselves, and to any of us harboring feelings for Alex, to never do what they had done. Even if you find him attractive, even if he finds you attractive, even if you care for him, even if he cares for you, even if you have fallen in love with him, don’t ever **** him in any way to make him fall in love with you.

Sophia was crying when she said that. I was sad with her, but not for her. She had made a horrendous mistake, together with Clara, and should pay for it. I was angry, but the plans of Alex were my own now too. So I agreed telling them we should indeed follow the interests of Alex, and as a parting shot to Sophia and Clara, I was that angry, because even if taking care of us was his last promise, we should honor that by taking care of his interests.

Sophia and Clara paled by my last remark, letting them thus now I was angry, showing my emotions. That I cared for Alex, more than they did. But as an almost eighteen year old, I would take my promise seriously, and show them, or everyone else my determination should they ever come across me again. Sophia may have been the formal leader of the squad, but she knew damn well, I was the informal leader. The leader that moves things around, while she would then organize them. We could work perfectly together, but if it ever came to Alex and her, I would no doubt choose for Alex.

A promise made is a promise kept...

The problem was Alex letting me help him. As a minor he would never entrust me with things too sensitive or too heavy. He had no idea of my promise I have made to myself nor could I tell him, otherwise he would feel pressured. So I had to become an adult, fast, in his eyes. First step would be to tell him my eighteenth birthday was coming up, in two days. I had to tell him but not expect him to give me something. Being an adult meant for me, not being a child in need of care, love or protection. It was the only way I could fulfil my promise, by not asking for any of it. But I needed it too and I couldn’t ask him for it. I now saw promises needed be thought out carefully, because I would hurt myself. Just like Alex did, because without asking for love, it is rare you would get it. Extremely rare. Impossibly rare. I had too be realistic. The odds were not in my favor. Then again, they had never been.

The next day I saw Alex again. He was not entirely himself. Whenever he saw Clara and Sophia he expressed sadness. But they weren’t around for much, they dispersed themselves to escape any attention, trying to be invisible. Emma was her usual self, reserved and polite, though with a hint of sadness on her face too. She had prepared herself for going on a hunt for food, fishing perhaps and gathering fruits of the forest. Lina was gone with Didier. Sniping or something else. She was clearly already falling deeply in love, and it was both ways. I was happy for them, but also a bit sad for myself. Not that I showed the latter. So that left Mia and me to be commanded or trained.

Since Alex rather wanted to do stuff than sit by himself doing nothing he politely ordered us to train our shooting skills with him.

I had never been given a personal training by him. Since he was no longer frowning I found myself more self-confident, as did Mia too. Or she had shown compassion with me in the past with not being a good shot, then suddenly becoming a better shot when I did too. Alex was a good teacher. He corrected us calmly, never harshly, correcting my stance before I took the shot, not after. Always making sure I would not hurt myself in the shoulder by shooting. Aiming carefully, more determined too, to make him see me as someone that could contribute to his cause. The progress was visible, almost a miracle when the evening was upon us. He was telling us about bullets at the end of the lesson. What is was made of, how the separate components worked together. But he saw he lost us trying to explain. So he picked up a cartridge case and tried to explain with a metaphor.

“Look, compare a bullet with a person. I mean the projectile itself. The projectile or the person is... let’s say a bit hesitant to act on its own. It needs some things in life, in able to go forward. To grow. Luckily for the person the things it needs are very close by. So close by, it can feel it. It can feel its love. It is surrounded by casing of love, of protection. In the casing there is also care to move it forwards. It has gunpowder, it has care to stand on. And as soon as it is needed to go forward, the gunpowder explodes, the care increases in such a volume, that through only the casing of love and protection it can go forward. It is free.”

We understood...

“I know it is an odd metaphor, to be honest I am better with metaphors based on flowers and trees. But since you understand now, I suppose it isn’t a bad one... Now... eh... is there is anything else on your mind, before I leave you to your squad?”

I had to tell him. As casually as possible.

“One tiny little thing, I will be eighteen soon, in two days, perhaps we can learn then how to shoot the bigger guns?”

“Sure, Ella, no problem. Sad thing to be learning military stuff at your birthday. Sad thing you have to celebrate you birthday in such miserable times.”

“I don’t mind. It is what it is. I don’t really like having birthdays. I have been living in foster care my whole life and becoming eighteen is the day you get thrown out of the house. Something my foster parents abundantly made clear during my stay here and just before they left to enlist. It is the reason I said was seventeen, and not almost eighteen minus a few days.”

I didn’t want to let him know my foster parents too had just left me behind because I didn’t want to contribute the way they wanted me to. But he still frowned at that, like it was cruel of them to leave me behind while they should have stayed to protect me.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. I am over it. And I have it a lot better now. I can get my own food now, I know how to besafe, and this war turned the world upside down. It will be a lot better place for young women like me who know how to handle themselves. The villagers don’t really realize it yet, but they will have a hard time adapting to the new world order. If there is any order at all.”

So really... I just am eighteen, nothing more, nothing less, it doesn’t mean anything at all...

“Hmm... Very wise of you to get that already.” He replied before leaving for the night, taking the cartridge case with him.