Pit pat.
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...
Pit pat.
Pit pat.
Pit pat.
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...
Pit pat.
Pit pat.
Pit pat.
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Pit.
...
Sigh.
I'm getting close.
I just passed Ethridge a while ago, according to this tan, stained, and grimy map I stored in my damaged, dark blue backpack. Holding it out towards the bright, intense light of the sun, which illustrated some markings I made that indicated my progress, I crossed out the neighborhood from the map with a red X. In retrospect, I shouldn't have spent some of our precious hours in the sun there. That place didn't have much food to cover for the trouble it took me to briefly search it, although I'm surprised it had anything at all.
Regardless, it doesn't change the fact that I still have a lot of ground to cover before I even get close to arriving at my hometown. I'm going to have to camp out here for the night. As to where, I have no idea. The map says there's a few shops on the way. I'll probably take keep in one of them once I take a look of them.
For now, though, I just got to keep on walking. Like I said, I'm getting close.
Pit pat.
Pit pat.
Pit pat.
Pit pat.
...
...
...
Pit pat.
Pit pat.
Pit pat.
...
The sun's going to set soon.
What used to be in the middle of the sky was now reached even closer to the fringes of the east, being covered significantly from the trees and shrubbery from my right. Sipping on the last few drops of one of the water bottles I still had, I held onto the bottle with my right hand, closing it off with its plastic cap with my left. Crouching for a moment to store the empty bottle back into my bag, I could hear leaves faintly rustling in the distance, followed by the soft fluttering and chirping of birds, flying away into the horizon.
It was momentarily entrancing, pulling me into the calm and serene scenery of the road, surrounded by vivid images of life and the audio of its tranquility. For only an instance, I was reminded of the peacefulness that this forest has become without the bustling of cars or the disturbances of human life.
However, I was immediately pulled out of it with a-
ROAR!
Sounding loudly from my left, I swiftly zipped up the bag, pulled it towards my bag, and hastily began jogging out of there. I did not want to remain close to whatever was nearby.
While I continued to speedily trek through the road, I felt somewhat emotional for a moment, ashamed of myself as I look down on my hands, seeing the faint stains of grime and dirt cover my fingers and palms. As I continued to make distance from where I felt as if the whole world was somehow looking down on me, disappointed of what I became. As if what had happened to the it was my fault.
Yet, I knew that I had nothing to do with it. I was only a teen when we lost our connection to the rest of the world. And pretty soon, we did the same for each other.
I remember the loud panic I was surrounded by when all of our devices shut off. I remember the consistent slamming, thudding, and rustle of inanimate cars, once driven by impatient drivers. I remember the sharp sounds of glass shattering, buildings being deshelled, furniture upturned, and screams being yelped out.
I even remember the crying as many, including myself, realized that life would seem to never go back to normal.
Sometimes, as I leaned towards the shrubbery and tip-toed between the road and the forest to the right, I wonder what could've been if everything remained the same. Would I keep my childhood friends by my side? Would I still go to the same school? Would I still walk down the same road? Would everything still be alright?
Just like the event that caused all of this, I don't how my life could've been if this never happened. All I know is that it did, and no matter how much I walk, it will never allow me to forget the loss I suffered through it.
That I lost myself. My friends. Even my family...
Whether they're still alive or not.
I guess it's why I'm going back home. Despite all the change and all the loss, I just want to return back to my old house, take care of what I used to have, and survive off what's still there.
It's not like I'm going back the way I came in. Especially when I'm leaving that... Nevermind. The point is that I'm going home. Although, I should recognize no matter how much I talk about my mission, it won't change the fact that I'm fucking tired.
My legs, after that brief sprint, grew ever more unstable and exhausted, incapable of calming down and at an unclear breaking point. My body was gradually trudging along the road with a declining sense of purpose and intent. My stomach occasionally growled, begging for sustenance as it slowly ate itself up during my travels. My eyes even began to twitch, becoming ever more inane and restless as I blinked.
I think it's time to set up camp. Limping into the forest, stomping down on the crunchy grass and thwacking off several bits of dirt off the path, I searched around for a spot that I could rest in, looking for a site that could sustain me. Along the way, I picked up several twigs and fallen tree branches as a means of fuel for the fire I'll need to make. I kept grabbing more and more until my hand couldn't carry anymore and as I gathered up the last piece of wood, I noticed a place that I believed would be a good campsite for the night.
After a few minutes of walking, I reached to what appeared to be a small, yet capable clearing of grass in the middle of the woods, furnished with a fallen tree log covering one side of the area while the other was stylized with, after a moment walking around the area, kicking my feet into the ground to feel its texture, leveled flooring that made it sufficient enough to sleep in for the night.
I sighed, shoving off the immense weight of stress, alongside the physical weight of my backpack and the firewood to the edge of the tree, and lay myself down by the middle of the log, hoping to catch a breath before beginning to set up camp. However, as my heartbeat finally slowed down and my breathing stabilized itself, my several attempts to move my body ended in futility as it began to shut down, anticipating that this moment of respite would go on for a longer interval of rest.
Despite my reservations, my instincts, and my chronic feelings of paranoia, I slowly came to the conclusion of desperately needing a break and, with time, allowed my guard to loosen itself. Once my eyes rendered itself immobile and closed, I began to take what was hopefully...
A short nap before I... needed to...
Set up...
Camp.
...
...
...
RUSTLE.
Upon the sound of the leaves gently clashing with each other to the breeze, my eyes gradually blinked open, sluggishly awakening as my body turned on as well. It felt jarring to wake up now, especially when it reminded me of my afternoons after school, taking naps that I wished lasted an eternity. And just like those naps, I woke up to the quiet ambience of the night, sprinkled only with moments of crickets chirping and the partial light of the moon shining briefly onto my sleepy body.
My mind felt much more clear after that nap, although it was in stark contrast with my eyes, my arms, my legs and my torso, which may have garnered more strength but was even more restless than before. It almost propelled me to return back to my slumber until my feelings for survival superseded my exhaustion and launched myself up from the grass. I stretched my arms and legs as I stood on my feet, groaning, and slowly picked up the firewood I threw down moments ago.
Ripping numerous blades of grass from the earth, I then planted the wood gently onto the gap, piling it up with several layers of bark and wooden branches and sprinkling in the ripped blades of grass, despite its apparent inutility. Reaching for my right pocket, my right hand sprung back up with a rusty and gray metallic lighter and in one careful motion, sparks fly from the flick of my right thumb, giving way to a flame underneath the pile of wood and leaves I had made.
It took a bit. But as I groggily lay my eyes closed for a moment, the next showed me the pile was beginning to glow. Turning off the lighter and pulling back my hand, I saw as the fire gradually continued to consume the wood, finally providing me the campfire I wanted.
I sighed, still reeling from the nap I had taken. Pulling away to the log I lied down in, trudging through the ground, I searched my backpack for something to snack on. Letting all my food down, which consisted of one piece of jerky, two large strips of raw pork, two water bottles, one can of peaches and two cans of beans, and one small bottle of an energy drink (which was about 6 months expired).
I didn't have much but I had something for now. But I'm just happy that I got really lucky with the farm I found a week ago. Still had pigs lying around.
Opening the packaging of the piece of jerky, I chewed at the resilient and unwieldy pieces of protein with some difficulty, pulling away my mouth as the jerky tore apart. My teeth bluntly pierced through the jerky's shriveled and meaty contents. Swiftly, the jerky traveled from my hand into my throat in only a few minutes, fulfilling barely any sense of hunger.
That wasn't enough. Not even close. So, without much thought, I lifted a can of peaches from the ground, ripped off the cover with my left hand, and by hand, picked each individual piece of fruit as to slowly savor the sweet and slippery sensations it gave me. The feeling it gave me was so enticing that I even licked my fingers clean once the fruit gave way.
The fruit felt like a reminder of the sweets addiction that I used to have. I mean, fruits like these were my replacement for the sweets of the old times, which nowadays, became sought-after rarities back where I came from. Oh, the food tickets I had to sacrifice just to taste a sliver of chocolate...
And even then, that shit was never guaranteed whenever I got ahold of one. I remember the times when Elise would come to me, pleading with me to share it. Of course, being the man I am, I always said no.
And I would always regret it afterwards.
Oh, the fights we would have just over a piece of candy. Whether it was playful or damn near physical, it didn't matter. We still fought for such delicacies.
Unfortunately, she would always win in the end. And I...
I would be left deprived of my just desserts.
Oh, the humanity.
...
SIGH.
Just remembering these things always cast inside me a sense of doubt for this mission of mine. Questions I wouldn't answer. I mean...
Why go so far?
Why risk everything?
Why travel through so many fields, forests, towns, cities just to get back home?
Why for this one thing?
For this one person?
Just why?
...
"It'll all be okay."
Then I remember... Her.
Then, doubts no longer surround me. And now, as I lifted the can of peaches up to my mouth, drinking the last of the fruit's sweet nectar, and placed the plastic of the jerky on the now empty can of peaches, I continued to remind myself of what I was doing. As I picked up all the food from the grass and placed it back in the bag, I continued to remember the face that has brought miles and miles away from safety. And finally, as I laid my head upon that wooden 'pillow' I had on my side, ready to shut myself down for the night...
I reminded myself of one thing: I know why I'm coming back home.
And it will be soon.
Soon... I will see you again.
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RUSTLE.
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THUD.
Ugh... What the hell-
HUFF.
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...
...
Oh shit.
HUFF.
The rays of sunshine traveled around my blurry eyes as I woke up, enlightening me to an alarming vision alarming sight of a fuzzy, tall brown bear staring directly at me, observing me with its two large, wide eyes with a curious, yet unpredictable intent. As it was doing so, I also saw a glimpse of two similarly stylized cubs, both as tall as my head, that were accompanying their mother, poking around on my sides and sniffing on the backpack beside me.
With every single ounce of my willpower, I forced myself to remain absolutely still, resisting the urge to jump out of my spot and run as fast as I could. However, my eyes still jolted from its placed and my head sprung into an absolute sweat.
PIT. PAT.
The bear kept sniffing at me, walking around my post as it left my sight and circled over my head. It wasn't sure what to make of me. On one hand, I wasn't moving so I shouldn't be a threat. On the other...
CLANK.
SNUFF.
The backpack I had held the metallic crowbar of mine, which I presumed appeared foreign, and thus, dangerous to these animals. The cubs, at the sound of the crowbar falling from where it stood, stepped away from the bag, nervous over its strange looks. The bear sounded like it didn't really react to it.
But I didn't know if it hadn't or not. And besides, it had my scent. If it posed a danger, they would think that I could be as well.
Shit, what could I do? If I make any sudden movements, I could risk upsetting the mother. And I know that it wouldn't end well once that happened.
PIT PAT.
The mother bear returned to my sightline, eyeing the bag. It cautiously approached it, aware of what it held. Both the good and the bad.
It was then that I realized the appeal of the bag. The food. It could definitely smell the raw, flagrant smell of the pork.
Crap.
The bear then pushed its face into it, turning it over several times. In response, the crowbar vaulted over and eventually, upon a final turn, it slipped out of the bag, resting upon the grass on its own. The cubs, once their fear subsided, circled over the object, sniffing at it as a further inspection. The mother, though, let out a soft growl towards its children, propelling them to come to her side.
She could sense the food. And with that, without warning-
SCCCHHRRRAP!
GROWL!
...
God fucking damn it.
My body jolted and twitched out of frustration and resentment as the bear tore up the bag, chewing out it's top and revealing the contents inside. Some water apparently spilled out of the bottles, showering the faces of the mother and one of the cubs and causing the mom to drop the bag. As it fell to the ground, the cubs immediately rushed towards it, pushing their shitty mouths through the opening; upon hearing the shuffling of the bag and the muffled slobbering resonating from the cubs, I could hear their impatience as they pulled out with the pieces of pork. I stared into their eyes as they danced around the clearing, tackling each other for a piece of pork that one of them held while the other had dropped his out of pure jealousy. Their mother briefly pouted, seemingly expressing disappointment as she watched them fight over meaningless tribulations. While the mother initially followed their erratic movements, she soon spotted the piece of pork lying by the ground.
I could see it.
I could her staring at that piece of pork with hunger.
As if it hadn't eaten all day.
I bet it's watering at seeing such a juicy delicacy, laying on the dirt At this point, I was furious. While I've faced against nature several times before now, it wasn't like this. And it shouldn't be.
Because I've had to endure it for the past month.
I've walked through dry and wet lands. Open and closed passages. And miles and miles of road that always seems like it would never end.
All that time... All that effort... All for... this?
To get robbed by fucking animals?
Despite every reservation in my body and mind, I was instinctively trying to signal my needs to the mother, wanting the food for myself. Frantically, my body switched between cold and hot, trying to show some kind of desperation for the food. And it was showing. The mother noticed my movements, beginning to become apprehensive before, upon further observation, began to get curious over my actions. But I couldn't tell much apart from that. All I could see while gazing at the creature's big brown eyes was dark, shallow depths, devoid of soul or possibly mind.
Of course, it's like that. Because it's been like that for its whole life. Because it doesn't know anything outside of this. Meanwhile, that kind of experience had been foreign to me until recently. And I had to struggle because of that. So, despite every thought propelling to keep myself on the ground, my body tried to raise itself from the ground. Pushing my hands against the floor, I motioned myself towards the pork. I reached for it.
You know why? Because I earned it.
Does that brute know what I had to do for that? Does it know how far I've gone? What I had to leave behind? Huh? Does it?
After all I've done...
After all I've witnessed...
After all this time...
Can't I just catch a damn bre-
ROAR!
Shit.
The mother screamed at me, causing me to slip and lose my balance, pushing me back to the floor. The mother started to trot towards me, gathering unpredictable intentions. I shuffled backwards, swiftly struck with fear and dread. Unable to do anything.
Crap.
NO no no no no no no no no no.
What have I done?
GROWL!
What have I done?!-
RUSTLE.
Suddenly, the rattling of leaves rang out across the area, coming from the right side of the clearing. Upon visually searching the area, the cubs had appeared to have left, venturing deeper into the woods while presumably still fighting over pork. Seeing that her cubs were gone, the mother grew cautious and, with one last glance at me, nabbed the piece of pork and began running through into the greenery, disappearing in it while the crunching sounds of her paws slowly faded over time.
As a minute went by, I hear the echoing groans and growls of the forest, along with the early noises of the morning, fade as the woods grew silent, leaving me alone in thought.
...
...
...
I can't stay.
Hastily, I crawled out of my spot, briefly slipping before I pushed myself upwards. Sprinting, I swiftly grabbed what remained of my bag, anything tangible that fell out of the bag, and my crowbar. Throwing whatever remained inside the bag, gripping the bag by its top in an attempt to close it up, and holding on my crowbar on my right hand, I rushed out of my makeshift camp and raced through the woods.
PIT-PAT-PIT-PAT.
PIT-PAT-PIT-PAT.
The trees, bushes, and grasses all blurred past me, swinging past my peripheral vision as my feet propelled me further and further away from the scene. I felt like an athlete with the sheer speed that I was running with, dodging and passing through the trees and branches clouding my vision.
I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop moving. The bear could've noticed my hasty leave. It could be on my trail.
I can't let it reach me. Not now. Not when I'm getting so close.
PIT-PAT-PIT-PAT.
As I push myself against the dirt and the grime of the forest's flooring, I continued to move through the scenery until, finally, I saw the light penetrate more and more through the greenery and once I made through its veil, I found myself exiting the dark seclusion of the woods and back on the road once more.
PIT-PAT-PIT-PAT.
Despite a brief moment of relief rushing through my mind, my body didn't feel the same way. It kept moving on its own, only gradually slowing down once I managed to make enough distance from my campsite. As several minutes pass, paced by the graphic sounds of my shoes hitting the dilapidated concrete, I began to feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins fading from my body, forcing me to stop sooner than I thought. I tried to calm my lungs by breathing from the nose but, out of pure exasperation, I could only inhale and exhale through my mouth. My body continued to stagger, feeling evermore tired and lost as I continued to catch my breath.
I needed water. But do I still have any?
After a moment's rest, crouching on the side of the road, I laid the bag on the ground, facing towards me as I let go of its top, letting its decimated exterior open by itself. Placing my hands through its insides, which resulted in them getting covered by a mixture of water and animal slobber, I pulled out what appeared to be one shredded bottle of water while the other remained only bent, two soaked cans of beans, and a torn can of energy drinks, fizzing out on the side.
I observed as the bag movement's pushed the liquid contents inside, giving off a nasty odor that was caused by all the sweat that the bag endured throughout my journey. Facing away from it, I turned the bag upside down and watched as all the water and juice came rushing out, soaking the road before me and muddling itself with the grime and dust of the street.
SIGH. This isn't good.
I only have a day's rations of food and only half for water. I lost what could fed me at least two days worth of meals outside of the beans. And I desperately needed the water.
Well, I guess that 'soon' has to be even sooner now.
Because I need to get into town.
TODAY.
...
...
"Fuck."
...
...
...
Pit pat.
Pit pat.
"Hey, mom?"
Pit pat.
"Yes?"
Pit pat.
Pit pat.
"Where are we going?"
Pit pat.
"Well, son, I just got a call from someone. Your teacher."
Pit pat.
"My teacher?"
Pit pat.
"Yes, your science one. She's just absolutely appalled by how you behaved yesterday."
Pit pat.
"But I didn't do anything wrong!"
Pit pat.
"You disrespected her, that's what was wrong! I'm sorry but you can't go on speaking like that to her. So, you're going to apologize."
Pit pat.
"But I don't want to go back to school. We can just send her an email, saying that I'm sorry."
Pit pat.
"No, you are going to do it in-person. Whether you like or not, you're going back."
Pit pat.
"But-"
"No. You are going. End of discussion. Because if you can't face her in-person, then you will never learn to respect anyone. Much less me or, heaven forbid you, your father. And I can't have that. Not in my house. So, you're going back, alright?"
...
"Alright?"
...
...
...
"Okay... I'm sorry."