Wanderlust

When I woke early the next morning, I was starved. I tried desperately to keep myself full, not not make myself skinnier than I already was but it was getting to that point where my cheekbones were becoming more prominent and my stomach sagged deeper into itself with deflation. I had learned over the course of a few weeks that I had to set up traps because I carried no weapons and if I did have one before it got broken or wore out, it was a sharpened rock or spear. I remember the first few weeks of me being awake was hell, I didn't know how to function I felt. There was so much misplaced and scattered, I thought that it would be easier if I just killed myself. I couldn't do it though, I never went through with it and eventually I picked myself up and started to travel little by little towards the mountains that loomed in the distance.

My goal was to reach those mountains. I may no have any memories of myself but I wasn't stupid. I knew things that I don't remember learning and had common sense and it was telling me to go towards the mountains for a better chance in surviving. So that's exactly what I was doing, week by week, and month by month. I remember the first time I saw the mountains, they were a shadowy haze and now I could spot the peaks clearly. I took each day with stride and eventually I taught myself things like setting up traps and skinning the small forest animals that got snagged. It didn't go without remorse, killing the innocent animals. I gave silent apology for each one and thanked them for keeping me alive.
Today I had caught the usual small animals and had stolen a few eggs from an empty nest. I had gotten done early enough that I decided that I would move on towards the mountains today, thinking that I could be able to reach them by the end of the month. I knew today was someday in May and that it was about noon.

It took me forever to figure out the month. The time I just got use to and eventually just knew by the position of the sun in the sky and on cloudy days it would be a little harder to keep along. It wasn't until a change in the season that I had knew the month and eventually pinned it down to the day. Winter wasn't blistering cold like I had probably known it to be but instead it was cooler but the heat that came in the summer time was relentless. I knew that I was further south than I was north but hadn't the first clue where I was exactly.

It took me sometime to pack up my things and hook and tie my kill to the makeshift pack I had made. My clothes were littered with mud and holes, I needed to find some new ones soon. Any clothes I had owed came off someone's back. The ones I wore now were baggy and big, so I started tearing off pieces for uses to hold my hair up or for a general use. The shirt was now up to the hem of my pants, it use to reach down mid thigh.

Trekking though the forest wasn't all that horrible. At first I hated it, my feet would blister and bleed but now they were tough and calloused. My skin wasn't pale anymore but tanned and scratched, my hair was ratty and curly. It was always a mess so it was always thrown up into a pile on my head, it had grown considerably from my shoulders down to my mid back. I wanted to just cut it all off badly but what was I going to do? Rip it from my head root by root?

My steps were quiet and deliberate as I came to a ravine. It wasn't as steep as others that I had seen but I still had to watch my steps for any lose ground. As I let myself slid and step down the steep hill, my footing slipped and I went crashing and tumbling down the ravine, slamming to a halt as I hit the bottom. I groaned silently, rolling onto my stomach as I opened my eyes to the sun directly above me. As I stared ahead, the first thing I saw was flower, it was pink and the petals were numerous. I felt a spark of familiarity a name popping into my head.

Dahlia. It was a Dahlia, native to Mexico and further south than that but here one was in front of me. I let my head graze it lightly before plucking it up from the stem. I lifted myself up off the ground and immediately felt a pang of pain on my rib side of my body. I looked down and saw a stick lodged in deep, blood dripped down on to the shirt. I felt woozy at the sight, something that I haven't seen before this life. Do I pull it out? Do I leave it in? My hand grasped the stick and the pain doubled making me cry out in pain. I yanked my hand away but something in my head told me that I couldn't just leave it in there, I had to take it out and I had to clean it.

My hand grasped the stick again and I balled my free hand into a tight fist, clamping my mouth shut. I shut my eyes and without thinking, yanked the stick out quickly. The pain made my voice inaudible, I couldn't cry out in pain if I wanted to. Who knows what lingers in these woods. Sweat collected on my forehead as my side throbbed and writhed in pain. I held up my shaky hand and saw the pointed stick coated in blood. I let it drop to the ground and I lifted my shirt up to assess the damage.

It was bloody and had specks of wood and dirt around it. I looked around me and didn't see any water but was aware that for the first time in forever, there was a clearing above me. As I looked further, I also saw the trees thinning out ahead of me. I stumbled ahead, clutching my side. It took me a lifetime to reach the clearing of the trees and I looked in awe at the sight in front of me.

Miles and miles stretched out in front of me, the mountains towered in the distance and though they lacked white caps, they weren't as gray like I had originally thought. They were rocky and rough, as was the ground that was dropped off below my feet by who knows how high off. I looked around and up and was even more surprised to see that I was on a mountain, the jagged edges climbed above me and I turned to see the forest behind me. I looked back down to the ground below the drop off I was standing on. It held much fewer trees and more dry ground than anything but I saw a glint out of the corner of my eye and snapped my gaze to it. It was a large body of water, grass surrounded it with trees before it trickled off into barren ground. I walked along the edge and saw that I could make it down with time.

The climb down held loose boulders and crumbling rocks. I felt myself about to fall several times but never made a peep. One hand was pressed against my wound and the other clutched the Dahlia flower, not wanting to leave the beauty behind. My bag started weigh me down a little and I adjusted it on my back as the ground grew closer and closer until I was able to clamor off the loose rocks and onto solid ground. I looked above me and saw the mountain that scrapped the sky.

The irony was almost humorous. I was dreaming of the safety of a mountain and the natural benefits it held, when I was on one the entire time. I took a seat and let myself catch my breath. The pain which I had notice subsided slowly grew strength and I was sweating profusely. It was different kind of sweat though, it was cold and sticky. My vision was fuzzy and my ears rang as my heartbeat thudded harder against my chest. Blood was dripping onto my leg from my shirt, the sight made me tired. I prevailed though and stood up with a shaky will to get to the lake.