It was a dark and dusty town. Many buildings had been reduced to rubble. I felt as if the hot sun beating down on my blistering skin was smug and mocking and the freezing nights felts just the same.
I had been wandering the depressing area for what seemed like days. It had been a week without food and sparse water which I had finished off that morning. I could feel the mild delirium stirring threatening to overthrow my wit. It occurred to me I hadn’t heard a human voice in days. not even my own. I opened my mouth and noticed the dry, cottony texture. I croaked out some curses and furrowed my brows. I looked up to the sky, it was about mid-day.
The next days and nights felt like an eternity. Every night I would close my eyes and the next day I would open my dry eyes and dry mouth and internally curse everything. One morning when I awoke my lips were chapped and my head throbbed like a thousand voices were shouting all around me. Over the past few days this had become normal, the feeling of my stomach eating away at itself, had also become routine. That wasn’t what was bothering me, this morning I couldn’t move.
My inner monologue began rambling as it had every morning, every night, every day, every moment I had been here. That little voice of doubt, the one who tells you “You’re going to die. They won’t find you.” but this morning I believed it. I was going to die alone, the death you only usually see in movies.
There was a feminine figure, I squinted to try and decipher whether she was real or a figment of my imagination. She looked young, about her mid-twenties. She got closer and I closed my eyes and re-opened them. It seemed real but I couldn’t be sure. I became aware I was crying. My cheeks were dry and the only way I knew was the tightness in my chest and light gasps for breath. The woman sat next to me and moved like she was going to put a comforting hand on my shoulder but put her hand down. She began to draw in the sand.
I looked at the dirt “I am Esmeralda” I read. I looked up at her. She matched the name, brunette hair, sun-kissed skin, with eyes like Obsidian stone. She sat with me and told me about herself. She never spoke, I couldn’t ask why. After a while I could barely keep my eyes open. She frowned, looking slightly concerned. There was something about her that made me feel safe and happy. I coughed “It’s okay to close your eyes” She smiled softly and sadly, but I closed my eyes and listened to my breath. The flash of white came and I felt panic but suddenly relaxed when I remembered her face. The white settled and I opened my eyes, there she was smiling.
“Hello”
I had been wandering the depressing area for what seemed like days. It had been a week without food and sparse water which I had finished off that morning. I could feel the mild delirium stirring threatening to overthrow my wit. It occurred to me I hadn’t heard a human voice in days. not even my own. I opened my mouth and noticed the dry, cottony texture. I croaked out some curses and furrowed my brows. I looked up to the sky, it was about mid-day.
The next days and nights felt like an eternity. Every night I would close my eyes and the next day I would open my dry eyes and dry mouth and internally curse everything. One morning when I awoke my lips were chapped and my head throbbed like a thousand voices were shouting all around me. Over the past few days this had become normal, the feeling of my stomach eating away at itself, had also become routine. That wasn’t what was bothering me, this morning I couldn’t move.
My inner monologue began rambling as it had every morning, every night, every day, every moment I had been here. That little voice of doubt, the one who tells you “You’re going to die. They won’t find you.” but this morning I believed it. I was going to die alone, the death you only usually see in movies.
There was a feminine figure, I squinted to try and decipher whether she was real or a figment of my imagination. She looked young, about her mid-twenties. She got closer and I closed my eyes and re-opened them. It seemed real but I couldn’t be sure. I became aware I was crying. My cheeks were dry and the only way I knew was the tightness in my chest and light gasps for breath. The woman sat next to me and moved like she was going to put a comforting hand on my shoulder but put her hand down. She began to draw in the sand.
I looked at the dirt “I am Esmeralda” I read. I looked up at her. She matched the name, brunette hair, sun-kissed skin, with eyes like Obsidian stone. She sat with me and told me about herself. She never spoke, I couldn’t ask why. After a while I could barely keep my eyes open. She frowned, looking slightly concerned. There was something about her that made me feel safe and happy. I coughed “It’s okay to close your eyes” She smiled softly and sadly, but I closed my eyes and listened to my breath. The flash of white came and I felt panic but suddenly relaxed when I remembered her face. The white settled and I opened my eyes, there she was smiling.
“Hello”