A Woman With Killer Skills 4/12/17

It was hard for her to stay sane after so long alone. She hadn't had human contact in years, too afraid to leave her home in the treehouse. She sometimes talked to the animals, and they sometimes talked back, but that was only when she was on the brink of letting go. She would go out foraging for food, looking for the right type of berry to eat and only finding the poisonous ones that would kill her. She would think about eating them anyways. Why not? What was stopping her? And then her sanity would come back just enough to remind her that living was stopping her, of course. Eventually, it would get to be too much work. She would hear a group of hunters wander around under her home. She would remember all the ways they'd treated her when she'd talked to them before. They'd called her a monster. A psychopath. She couldn't go down to talk to them. But why not? What would they do that was so bad? And instead of her sanity reminding her, her head was empty. So she waited until they had their backs turned, and she jumped down from her home. They spun around with fear in her eyes. She grinned at them wildly. Later, when she was using the leaves of a tree to clean the blood from her fingernails, she accepted it. It was hard for her to stay sane, so eventually, she didn't.