• Chapter One
    Keiko Kusanga

    "Forty-eight!" I, Keiko, shouted as I hit the center of the tree that was now marked with blood stains from my blistered hands. My eyes held determination, as I drew my hand back. 'Why did it have to be them?' I wondered as I took ready position. Again, I slammed my fist into the tree, causing a fresh line of blood to trickle down the stump.
    "Forty-nine!" I shouted repeating the process. 'They took everything from me.' I thought again.
    "Fifty!" I yelled, throwing my fist at the tree full blast. 'But I won't let it happen again...not to anyone close to me.' I sighed, and leaned up against the tree across from the one I had been punching. Slowly, I slid down so that I was now in a sitting position. I took a drink from my cantine(SP) and looked up at the tres surrounding me. This was my training. Every morning, I wake up from my camp in the forest and do basic warm-ups such as punching, running, e.t.c. My camp moved every couple of days, as a safety percaution for not getting caught. Why I was careful about being captured, you will find out later...why I spent the mornings hitting trees, you will see soon, and why my thoughts are always about the same things, you will come to know.

    All in due time.

    I sighed once more before standing up. My black vest glimmered in the sun-light and my loose, black capris swayed from side to side with the movement of the wind. I grabbed my black hair-band and tied my long, thick, dark purple hair into a ponytail. My hair was something that always weirded me out. When I was calm and content, my hair turned this dark brown; when I was regular, (and you will soon find out what regular is) my hair dark brown with purple highlights. And when I was in combat, my hair turned all purple; it was freaky. But maybe it was normal for people in the Kusanga clan, like myself; so I've always ignored my hair's mood swings.

    I turned around, and begin making my way back towards my camp. The setup of it wasn't really special. I slept in a sleeping bag with only my duffel beside me. For food, I mostly hunted and cooked my findings on a home-made fire. I had a few outfits in stock, but I'd left most of them back home.

    If you could even call it a home.

    From the placement of the sun, I could tell that it was inching towards noon. "Time to get goin'" I muttered to myself as I rolled up my sleeping bag, and slung the duffel around my shoulder. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going, but for the last 3 years, I had let the forest's path take me where it wanted. Yes, three years without a home; three years of poverty.

    Three years of complete iscolation.

    You may not be able to picture the horrors of being alone. See, you may think you're alone but you're not. If there's at least one person you see in a day, then you're not alone. Now, you can search every dictionary, thesaurus, and library...but you will NEVER be able to understand the definiton of being "alone."

    But me...I know EXACTLY what it is, but I'm not gonna' take the time to explain it to you for, this is something that you will not be able to comprehend by hearing the words. This is strictly something that you have to experience. It's like riding on a roller coaster...people can sit there and explain to you the feeling of dropping from that great elevation; twisting upside down, and flying at unimaginably fast speeds, but when you actually get on the coaster...it's NOTHING that you thought it'd be.

    But I digress.

    After five minutes of walking, I stopped in a shady spot that was well hidden amongst the red-woods. I dropped my materials and spread out the sleeping bag. It was finally time for me to go hunt. I walked away from my things and began making ym journey to a spot where I knew many animals went. Some exciting life, I got , huh? stare

    Well don't get bored yet...because, my life...had yet to begin.