Chapter Twenty #2
After filling my belly up with the crisp water, I sit back and pull the backpack and sleeping bag over to me.
I unzip the sleeping bag all the way, draping it over my shoulders before grabbing one of Luke’s freeze-dried meals.
I know I probably should wait since I just had the granola bar but my stomach is protesting that sensible move and I decide to take this opportunity while I’m happy, seemingly safe and comfortable.
I don’t have any way to heat the water, so I opt to eat it just as it is, straight out of the bag.
It’s not as disappointing as you would think, especially when you’re starving.
I eat the whole thing fast before wrapping my makeshift blanket tighter around me, wanting to take a little time to warm up.
I close my eyes and let the sun shining through the trees warm my face.
It’s the most amazing sensation I’ve had in days.
It makes me feel alive, like I can forget every bad thing that’s happened.
It’s surreal that just hours ago I was in the middle of a panic attack and now I’m sitting here with an almost full belly, quenched thirst and a warm body.
As I gaze around the forest surrounding me, I think it feels peaceful today.
I momentarily wonder why, but quickly shoo away the thought.
I don’t want to jinx it, not that I believe in all that, but I’m not taking any chances.
As I sit in this comfortable moment, I can’t help but wonder if my mind has been playing tricks on me this entire time?
Like when I was a child. How can these trees, which are covered in leaves like a sunset and this air which is filled with sparkling sunbeams and the very soft trickle of water in my ears, be the same setting that has been so dark and menacing?
It doesn’t feel like the same nightmare I’ve been living.
As I look around it doesn’t make sense but something inside me tells me to enjoy it, because it could all change at any moment.
Maybe this is a dream inside a nightmare and when I wake up, I’ll be surrounded by the true chaos.
Trying again to shut out these unhelpful thoughts, I lay back in the grass and before I know it, my eyes are closing and I can’t stop them. I simply don’t want to. This time I let myself sink into a dream.
The smell of decay is everywhere. It’s so strong I want to hold my breath, but I don’t.
My mind isn’t my own but this time, somehow, I’m more aware of it.
I’m something else, seeing through eyes that aren’t mine.
I’m watching myself. This version of me is stumbling through the trees.
I look scared. But the me that is dreaming, I’m not scared.
I’m excited, I feel adrenaline pumping in my veins.
Animal instinct that isn’t mine, fury that isn’t mine.
I feel something… someone… trying to break further into my mind.
To take over. It wants my body. I can’t let it. I won’t.
My eyes flutter open and as I lay and wait for the dream to float away, it doesn't. I can remember every feeling, every thought and I’m not afraid.
I know in my gut that these are not true dreams or at least not ones that have been put there only by my subconscious.
I also know in my gut that my mind is getting stronger–I’m taking back control of these dreams the further away I get.
It doesn’t comfort me though. Something is searching for me. It’s trying to learn something.
I need to get moving; that nap was not part of the plan and has come with a price. I lost valuable daylight. I’m relieved to see that the sun is still high in the sky, so I have a few hours to hopefully find my way out.
I sit up, letting the sleeping bag fall around me before using my hand to push myself up.
My body is feeling extra stiff and sore, which distracts me before I feel the ground shifting under my hand.
It’s very slight, almost vibrating. When I look down at my hand, all I can see are crumpled, broken leaves but as I focus on them I can see them moving ever so slightly.
I turn the rest of the way, so I’m facing them before brushing the leaves away.
I scream and lurch backward. Underneath the leaves are hundreds of maggots and beetles.
They are crawling and writhing on what’s left of a deer skull.
Huge chunks of its flesh have already been cleaned down to the bone; the actual meat of the animal is barely visible underneath the moving bodies.
I was sleeping right next to this. Literally inches from it.
The smell coming off it now that it’s uncovered takes my breath away.
I don’t understand how I didn’t notice this.
Have I gotten so used to the constant stench of rot?
The thought sickens me enough that I crawl a few feet away and throw up every bit of water and food I had in me.
My throat feels raw. I want to take a drink of water to wash the bitter taste from my mouth, but the thought of ingesting anything else turns my stomach more.
Once I’ve thrown up everything but the last bits of bile, I stand up and wobble over to my bag and grab my water bottle.
Once I’m back at the small stream I kneel down and attempt to fill the bottle up the best that I can.
I’ll need water later, especially now that I’ve purged everything I drank.
Tipping the water bottle to the side works but only slightly.
I can only get it filled partially before it flows back out.
After a few tries, I give up on that technique and decide to set the water bottle on the ground and use my hands to scoop and dump the water in.
This works a little bit better, but the downside is that my hands are picking up dirt and debris with every scoop.
Once I get it almost filled and feel content, I decide not to waste any more time.
I grab my things, avoiding eye contact with the deer skull and step over the water, back into the unknown.
As I look up to the sky, the sun is officially on its way back down.