Information

Mimteh has a minion!

Joseph the Articiff

Mimteh
Legacy Name: Mimteh

The

Glacier Montre
Owner: shadaleer

Age: 16 years, 1 month, 2 weeks

Born: February 3rd, 2010

Adopted: 16 years, 1 month, 2 weeks ago

Adopted: February 3rd, 2010

Statistics

Level: 4
Strength: 14
Defense: 11
Speed: 10
Health: 10
HP: 10/10
Intelligence: 17
Books Read: 17
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Unemployed

UNDER CONSTRUCTION! BEWARE OF SCARY CODING AND UNFINISHED STORY-NESS!

I would have given anything for real food. I was sick of canned vegetables and dried fruit. I wanted meat.

I'd ranged over pretty much our entire part of town, ransacking stores and abandoned apartment buildings alike for jerky or any non-rotting meat.

Everyone else had the same idea when they left.

* *

I was sick of green beans, nearly physically sick. They were squishy and wet and cold. Neta seemed unaffected, but he's weird anyway. I'm too much of a carnivore to give up meat.

So I was going to find meat.

Neta yelled after me, Remember your shoes! I crammed my feet into the lumps of leather that still passed themselves off as boots, and was off down the stairs, jacket flapping behind me (it's a very real noise. I like it). In a second, Arthur was there at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at me with creepy green eyes and freakishly large smile. Creep.

A word of explanation: Arthur and I go way back. The first time I saw him was when I was sixteen. I would wake up in the middle of the night and he would be lurking in the corner of my room, watching me sleep. No one else is able to see him. He creeps me out. I used to be on drugs so I couldn't see him, but when the world died, I went of my meds. It's hard to get medication when they don't make it anymore.
Neta tells me I'm crazy, and maybe I am.

Not that it really matters anymore.

*

I didn't notice the faint buzz under my feet until it shook the building above my head. I ducked into a door frame, remembering the three times we'd had an earthquake drill at school.

The earthquake lasted only a few seconds, but nearly the entire building came crashing down around my ears. Thankfully, it wasn't a very tall building. I clapped my hands over my ears and cowered, hoping I wouldn't be crushed under a ton of falling concrete.

When the world stopped moving, I cracked my eyes open. There was a nice cavern around me, probably about fifteen feet in front of me and about the same on each side. Ten feet or so in front of me, a gril was flopped on her back, blood pooling behind her head. She had to have been on a different floor - I hadn't seen her in the building.

And if she wasn't dead, I might start believing in miracles.

The girl was small - probably not more than seventeen or eighteen at the oldest - and painfully blond. And pale - though she had nothing on me - Neta tells me I'm beyond pale, into the realm of pasty.

I shuffled to where she lay sprawled, carefully listening for the sound of shifting rocks. Everything was dead silent. I nudged the girl with my foot.

She didn't move.

Unconscious or dead. I squatted next to her and felt for a pulse.

Definitely unconscious.

Her eyelids fluttered, and I tried to smile. When he eyes opened, she looked up at me, uncomprehending.

Yo. Are you still alive?I asked. I had a feeling that I didn't look particularly alive myself, but how I looked and what she was were two entirely unrelated things.

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but even as her lips moved, no voice could be heard. She looked surprised.

Can you speak? Or are you dumb? I asked. Here she was, conscious, alive and now unable to speak. Poor kiddo. She shook her head, and wobbled dangerously. Dizzy, I guess.

Don't move, your head's bleeding all over. You're just going to make it worse. Here. Lay down. I pushed her back down to the ground - she'd tried to sit up - and rocked back onto my heels. M'name's Mim. I was hunting for anything that wasn't canned green beans to eat when the earthquake hit and collapsed the building. We got trapped, but not too deep. Neta'll be here in a few minutes to dig us out. The girl looked up at me with a questioning look. I tried to look friendly

Neta's my brother. An artist. he was standing in the street when the earthquake hit, so he was safer. He'll actually be coming to save me, he doesn't know you're here, but we can take you along too, I'm sure. But you'll have to pull your own weight. We don't give out free food.

I thought I heard Neta call my name, but before I replied, I asked the girl if she'd heard it too. You can never tell. She just looked confused. I yelled back to Neta where we were, then turned back to the girl.

Yeesh. this building must have it in for you, I told her as I prodded the back of her head, trying to figure out what happened. Then, more to myself, This'll be great fun to take care of without any antibiotics. I tried to smile reassuringly, but I'm pretty sure it came out more as a grimace. We might have to cut your hair to keep the wound clean. It looks bad, but it's a head wound, so I don't think it's deep. But, then again, I'm a violinist, not a doctor, so take everything I say with a grain of salt.

I helped the girl sit up. A chunk of concrete above us shifted, and I called up, Neta, is that you? Please tell me I'm not hallucinating.

Nah, I'm real. But hey, who's this with you? The girl flinched as Neta moved the chunk of concrete; flooding our cavern with light.

No clue, I said with a shrug. She wan ts to talk, I can tell, but she can't get the words out. She's also got a great big bloody wound on the back of her head. I think that might have something to do with it. I squinted up at Neta. I'll hand her up first, and I'll follow.

I heaved the girl up to Neta, and while I thought she was small before, Neta dwarfed her. I scrambled up the rubble, and was momentarily entranced by the pattern of the sand in the concrete - have you ever stopped to look at it? It's pretty incredible, with no two specks ever exactly alike - until Neta nudged me with his foot.

C'mon, Mim. We don't have time to hang around. There might be aftershocks.

Ever the pragmatist, Neta.

On our way back to the apartment - I empty-handed, I should add - I kept seeing Arthur everywhere. I thought I saw Scott once or twice, and that made me flinch.

That still hurt.
* *

Neta and the girl were talking - well, Neta was talking, and the girl was eating the green beans I wouldn't touch - and I was watching the insects crawl over the walls of the apartment. Only I could see them, apparently, because no one else was reacting. Arthur was smiling at me, showing rows of sharp teeth.

. . . and Mim won't share, was all I heard of Neta talking to the girl. I had no idea what he was talking about, but No! I wasn't sharing!

Hell no, I grumbled. I looked at the girl. I'd cut the hair on the back of her head to about a centimeter long, and Neta and I had wrapped her head in bandages. She wasn't actively bleeding anymore. I don't think.

A bit of a tangent on me and not sharing: it's something teachers over the years have told me I can't do. I'm sorry, that's my pencil, my time, too much personal information you're asking me to give away. Back off. My inability to share led to several physical altercations in grade school. teachers did not like me.

But I was fed up with sitting here with nothing to do. Arthur's looming in the corner, and I'm going to bed. Wake me up when night falls. I'll keep watch tonight. I waved in Arthur's general direction, and the girl turned to look. Neta just nodded and watched me carefully until I closed my bedroom door.

* *

I hate sleeping in this bed anymore. Ever since Scott went and got himself killed, I can't sleep in it without remembering him. It's bad enough that I see and hear things that aren't there, couple that with guilty memories, this room was a veritable torture chamber for what little sanity I had left. but the room was the one place I could call my own, and no matter the psychological torment I suffered there, I wouldn't give it up for anything.

So I tossed and turned for an hour before finally giving up trying to sleep and instead began watching the fascinating scenes playing out behind my eyelids.

*

Mim? Mim. Night's almost here. You said to wake you up. Neta stood uncertainly in the door, ready to break away if I were to attack him - which had happened before, multiple times.

Coming, coming, I grumbled. I dragged myself out of bed. I scrubbed at my eyes with the heels of my hands. I followed after Neta into the living room.

The girl was settled on the couch, wrapped in an old fleece blanket, head resting on a pillow I'm pretty sure Neta stole from another apartment. She looked pathetic, and I really knew - she wasn't going to be pulling her weight anytime soon. Dammit, that meant I was going to be doing more work. Now I was in a bad mood.

Generally sentry duty consists of making sure no one gets up to the apartment while everyone else is asleep. It's a mind-numbing buys necessary job that Neta was loathe to leave to me alone - I think he's afraid I'll start trying to attack a hallucination one day and hurt myself. Sometimes I can tell the difference, but not always, I guess. Arthur's as real to me as Neta; sometimes I forget that I'm the only one who sees him.

Neta checked on me before he hit the sack. I assured him I wasn't going to murder anyone or have an episode while he caught some shut eye.

I explained to Mel earlier about how you occasionally have episodes. She knows what to do.

You're gonna scare the shit outta her if you tell her the unadulterated truth.

That's why I only told her what to do. Just. . . don't attack her please. She's already nervous enough, she doesn't need death threats too.

Right. I'll be out here if you want me. I waved Neta back into the apartment and took my seat on the top step. I had lots of free time to think. Arthur was sitting next to me in that ugly mustard yellow suit of his. Finally, he turned to me.

Go hit The Girl. he told me. She's going to be a drag on you and Neta. You know it. Why let her live? Any more head trauma and she'll kick the bucket, you saw the wound on the back of her head. Come on, Mim, it's simple enough - grab a knife from the kitchen and slip it between her ribs.

It's not that simple. I murmured back. If I hurt her, Neta will have my head. And he hid the knives after you told me to attack him.

Ooh, that is a small problem. But, come on now, Mim, are you going to let something like hiding knives deter you? You're a genius, Neta can't do anything to outsmart you. You can find the knives. I looked at Arthur and laughed.

You're right! I laughed. Why didn't I think of that? So obvious!

That's why I'm around, Mim. Now, go on. And if you say Neta will "have your head" just take him out too.

I felt like an idiot. How had I not realized these things before? I mean, really. So simple . . .

I crept into the apartment, Arthur following right behind. I nearly-silently ransacked drawers and cupboards., checked boxes, and generally made a mess until I found a knife. And then, I walked slowly and silently to where The Girl lay sleeping.

Psst, psst . . . Mel? Mel, wake up. I hissed. Arthur, who was standing behind the sofa, smiled and nodded encouragingly.

Mel lifted her head, and I gestured for her to stand up. She did, confused, and I swung at her with my fist. She staggered away when my fist connected with her stomach. She squeaked. so she could make noise! She was just faking it, for sympathy!

What, are you afraid? Didn't Neta tell you what to do? Come on, fight me

Neta came charging out of his room and knocked me to the side. The knife flew from my hand and skittered across the floor.

WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? he yelled. He shook me by the shoulders. WHAT ARE YOU DOING, MIM!

What does it look like I'm dong? I yelled back. Hm? She can make noise, she's not dumb! She squeaked earlier! She's not mute!

He had no right to accuse me. I was looking out for him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

There were people all around us, laughing, pointing, jeering, calling insults - to me, not Neta - all led by Arthur. they were screaming, laughing, taunting, all saying the same thing: You're a fool.

And I was.

*

Mel is terrified of me. She won't get withing ten feet of me if she can help it. Neta scolded me - lectured, more - and banished me to my room. He sat against the door all night to keep me there. I know, because I tried the door several times.

I didn't feel bad. I was in the right. Arthur and his hallucinatory buddies played me the fool, and that was what stung most. The sun was coming up by the time Neta let me out. I ignored him and shuffled into the hallway. Food was my order of the day.

Mim, can I talk to you for a minute?

I stopped and turned to face Neta. He looked exhausted - the same way I felt.

What do you want? I mumbled. I leaned in the doorframe.

What was up with last night? What do you have against Mel?

Arthur pointed out to me that she's useless as far as far as food gathering or anything. She's dead weight. Dead weight we have to feed.

Well, if you didn't attack her, she would be dead weight for less time. Did Arthur point that out?

No. But she's less dead weight if we just kill her now.

I don't know how to convince you, Mim, but we aren't going to kill her. I could tell you're on your way to get food, Mel and I'll catch up in a few hours. Neta looked me in the eye with genuine concern. Scary. I ducked and grabbed the backpack we kept by the door for food gathering. I slung it over one shoulder and grabbed my jacket and slung that over the other shoulder.

I'm thinking of going a mile north, and then half a mile past Scott's building. I think I remember there being a grocery store there. I guess we'll see.

I hugged Neta before I took off down the stairs - no matter how irritating he is, he's still my brother. I pulled on my jacket when I got outside, everything was still damp and chilly in this maze of tall buildings this early in the morning. In fact, here, it was still dark.

I set off for the north at a brisk pace.

* *

The canned food aisle was nearly pristine.

And guess what?

They had vegetable beef soup!

Admittedly, it had green beans in it, but those could be avoided. I loaded up. Eventually, I retrieved a shopping cart - you can never have too much non-expiring canned food.