Wanderlust

The lake water was cool and clear, the first touch of the water made my mouth foam. I let my bag fall from my shoulders as I immersed myself in the water. I gulped down handfuls and splash the water against my wound. The blood still flowed and I started to feel increasingly dizzy. The sun was hotter than it was a few hours ago and it beat down mercilessly on me.

I squinted up at the sun as let myself lower to the ground next to my bag and fiddled with the Dahlia flower as held it in front of the sun glare. It was pretty and natural in the dense forest, something that I thought wasn't an everyday thing. I rolled to my side and stuffed it into an opening, my arm feeling like a million pounds. I let it fall to the ground and my eyes fluttered. I let out a breath that made me feel hollow, yet I felt as if I had a weight on top of me.

Should I hang on? What do I have to hang onto? Nothing, I have nothing. I would rot out here before anyone would find me. And if I would be found, I would be an invisible casualty, no one would know me or claim me. It would be easy, just to let the blood flow from me until I'm empty. It would be a simple way to go, it would be peaceful. The thought of death scared me as I know it loomed closer and closer to me.

I shut my eyes tightly. Stop thinking. Don't die.

I could feel myself drifting further and further from reality. I tried to think of something happy, a good memory. I felt tears form in my eyes when the cruel reminder was I had none. It was blank, only confused and painful memories played in my head like a record. The fear wrapped itself around me and pulled me under, my last thoughts praying that I would wake.
___________________________________________________________________________________

I thought I was dead when I felt the vibration beneath me. It was a rumble, a sound that I knew but couldn't place it. It grew closer and closer until it felt like it was right on top of me. The sound was loud and it startled me awake for the briefest of seconds. Maybe I was dreaming maybe I was dead. The rumbling stopped and I could hear something that I had never graced my ears without violence following.

Voices.

They were hushed and quick but didn't hold a violent edge like the other voices I had encountered before. Like the rumble, they grew closer until I heard a female soprano ask the possibility if I was dead.

“Millie her chest is moving, she's alive,” a deep voice answered. I felt a foot nudge me, my eyes shooting wide and I gasped wildly. I saw them back away quickly, my eyes flickering to each other their faces.

There were two of them. The girl had short brown hair and doe eyes, while the man that stood next to here was broad and tall, his hair graying and long. He looked older but had a youthful look in his eyes that were trained directly on me.

I was shocked that they haven't tried to kill me yet, that I felt hopeful. The girl's eyes landed on my bloody hand and the wound, she lowered the weapon in her hand that I hadn't noticed. Her gaze softened and she was about to speak when someone brushed past her. It was another man who had blonde hair that laid perfectly on his head. He had a scruff that was a few shade darker than his hair. His eyes though, his eyes were what made me remember him the most out of all of them. They were green, the sharpest green that I had ever seen. They were mesmerizing and hard, like a pair of worn green topaz jewels.

I came back to reality though when I heard the girl say something to the green eyed man. He looked unimpressed but the girl held a pleading look. Were they going to kill me? My breath caught in my throat and I felt fearful, I didn't want to die. Hell, I thought I was going to die. I wasn't about to go through that feeling again, not now, not ever, and especially not by some crazy people, even if they did seem sane.

“Please,” my voice cracked pathetically, “help me.” My voice was uneven from months of not uttering one whisper that it sounded foreign and scary. My heart sped up as the jade eyed man knelt down at the end of my feet and examined me quietly while he twisted the bear knife he had into the soft ground. My eyes grew heavy and they shut on their own accord, the cold clammy sweat dripping down my forehead. The last thing I remembered was a new voice, this one was determined and unwavering. It spoke the words, “take her.” It was then I let the darkness taking me, trusting that I would wake up again.