A Flame to a Cold Memory

It was the fourth warm day in a row. The second day she decided to submerge herself in the cold pond water for a cleansing relief. And the first day that she’d remember something. It was small, forced, and insignificant. A blushing mirage of a thousand pedaled flower. There was no smell, no sense of something sweet sticking like pollen to the roots of the petals. It was only the flower, a dahlia, and it was the first thing that had broken through to be fully real about herself.

The image reeled lively through her head. She didn’t know what synapse caused the flash against her tightly closed eyelids. She had long floated to the top of the pond in surprise, thinking too hard to produce anything else. Dammit.

“One day what I’m doing will be worth something.” She said this every day, every time things were bleak. The troubling thing is that things had been bleak from the start.

Her naked form rose from the pond, putting her tore and tattered clothes on, and then etched a small and deep line into her skin with the only thin blade she had. 379 days.

It bled for only a second and then within a few days it would scab over like the others and eventually fade into a very light scar, which she noticed she obtains easily. She ran her fingers down her arm, feeling the slight bumps along the way. It was a cathartic action, she had no reason in the beginning, just something she could control, that she could decide to do and remember it. Now though, she did it just to feel something.

379 days alone. 379 days since I have woken up. 379 days and all to show for it is a small hazy memory of a dahlia flower to keep me going for another day.

She stopped her mental pattering, focusing up to the sky. The sun was still high in the east. Today she would walk further. Packing up wasn’t hard. Her only belongings were what she was wearing, a small blade, a dented canteen, and a blanket she had fastened to be rolled and tied up like a sack to hold these things.

She had no food. This was a day to day thing. Earlier she had eaten from berries that she had no clue if they were poisonous or not. She’d find out like she had before if they were. And some dried rabbit meat that was turning over to bad, she’d be lucky if she didn’t get sick.

As she set out walking, she made sure to keep the sharp mountain peaks in her sights. They were her leader, her promise land, her light at the end of the tunnel. They were the only goal in her life and the false purpose she had created to keep herself from going mad.

Her feet squashed in to the soft ground. Her heels had long grown coarse and tough. She had yet to find shoes through her wanderings. There was a point where she had nothing though. She had no clothes and then she found some. She had no weapons or machinery of any sort until she had found the small blade sticking up from the dirt. And she had nothing to carry water in under she found the canteen left at the edge of a dried up stream. Shoes would come. Things always had way of finding themselves to her it seemed.
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Her support was almost fully against the long and broken branch she had picked up hours back. The grounds had started to turn steeper and rockier. Her footing had to go from careless to tiptoeing around sharp rock stumps that peeked through the leaves and brush. The stinging of her soles warned her she had almost cut herself too many times despite her carefulness.

What did that flower mean? Was I a gardener? A florist? Or was it just as random as it seemed?

Her toes caught a buried vine, tucking under it and propelling her forward. She stumbled for a few steps, eventually the stick breaking under her weight and snapping in two. Her hands flailed in front of her, eyes wide of panic as she started her tumble down a steep ravine.

She somersaulted repeatedly, her head hitting up against trees and dead branches, the breath was knocked out of her. Her fingers clawed against the dirt to stop herself but the momentum was already too strong, she didn’t stop until she reached the bottom, sliding into a thick boulder.

Her belongs had long be thrown about, lost above her along the slope side amongst the trees. Her focus wasn’t on that though. No, it was on the jabbing pain on her lower right side and the aching throb that radiated from her left side and back. She carefully rolled herself over, looking down to see a sizable stick jutting out her abdomen. Blood was seeping out around it, dripping down onto the dry leaves. Her fingers grazed the tip of it and she winced instantly.

Should she pull it out or yank it out? It didn’t seem sensible to yank it but it would be the most painless way by a large margin. I can’t just walk around with it still in me.

She gritted her teeth, and slowly pulled the stick out. The pain was jarring and callous against the residing tissue and ripped skin.

Fuck.

Her breaths were deep and uneven when it broken into the open air, the pain subsiding enough to feel some relief. Everything still felt sore and throbbing and irritated. Her fingers clutched the enemy stick as she placed her free hand against the boulder to help herself to her feet. She wavered for a slight second, tossing the stick to the ground, glad to forget about it. She momentarily looked for her canteen to rise her wound with but it was nowhere to be seen.

Right, my things are gone.

Leaning against the boulder completely now, she looked around. She had fallen easily four hundred feet and below her was an even steeper and rockier drop off. Stepping around the boulder, a hand clutched over the bleeding lesion, her breath was taken away once again but this time by the sight.

It was a vast valley. She doesn’t remember anything so green. A lake simmering lightly in the breeze that almost had her turning her head up to the sun. For a second, she didn’t feel the pain anymore. She had found her promise land and it was only a few thousand feet below her. She didn’t have the slightest clue as to how to get down there without tethered to something or with the singing gash on her abdomen. She’d have to try though, that’s all she knew how to do.
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If she had grown anymore delirious, it would have been an easy convince to think that foam was actually forming around the rim of her mouth from thirst. The sun was dipping lower and lower into the west, threatening to leave her behind on the slope side in the chilly mountain air.

There was no telling how much she had traveled down, she hadn’t looked up since she started her decent. She was too concerned on what was coming up below her. Everything was growing more big, more steep and open. She was terrified she’d fall between the rocks and never see the light again. Her stomach twisted more at the thought and she had to look away. She saw she had traveled so far, she was getting close even though she felt so far away. She looked back down and had to make an educated decision as to jump over the large gap or find a way around it. Surely it had to trickle off to a close somewhere.

Her thirst and exhaustion were commanding her to jump but her fear and weakness were telling her to find a way around. A low rumble caught her ear, and she saw it very faintly in the distance. A vehicle, traveling down along the valley. Her run in with people have only been once or twice. Neither of them were pleasant, nearly violent even for territorial reasons.

She hadn’t quite thought it through before she leaped across the gap. Her knees gave way when she landed, a shock ricocheting through her nerves from the hard landing. A strangled cry from the back of her throat twisted itself into the pain of her side and the now freshly flowing blood from her wound.

She willed herself to her feet though, seeing that she could hop down the rest of the rocks. It was a rhythmic zig-zagging motion, never ending until she was on fresh grass. She had never felt the sensation. She wanted to stay but her senses were urging her to the lake. Damned if it was contaminated, damned if she didn’t get some water in her to try.

The staggering steps to the edge of the lake weren’t long. The sun was hidden behind the mountain side, the valley cast in a dark bluish-purple hue. The water looked black in the low light, but just cool enough to still be refreshing. She let herself collapse into it, rolling onto her back as she tried to catch her breath.

A headache pounded behind her eyes, everything multiplying in pain now that she was on even safe ground. She let her eyes close, exhausted from the abnormally frightful and eventful day. Everything was drawing into a close on her but then a familiar rumble and a bright light pierced the air around her. She was so tired, so much in pain, she didn’t care if they were coming to kill her. Even if she wanted to run and hide, there was no energy left for her to do so.

The vehicle drew into a sudden close stop, the headlights blinding her vision. Her head bobbed to the side to see a shadowed figure cast itself in front of the lights. It walked closer until she was looking up at a concealed face in the colored night. She couldn’t stay focused though. Her wound was killing her. She was so tired, just to rest for one minute would mean everything.

“She’s injured.” The figure’s voice sounded concerned, a female’s.

“Is it fatal?” Another voice called in, this one male.

“I—,” the female voice next to her paused, fingers prodding at the lower hem of her shirt, “I can’t tell.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell?” The male voice that had called was demanding, slightly condescending towards the concerned one.

“I don’t know, Jaden! Just come look for yourself.” She heard a rustle, the haughty male voice that she had been hearing coming in closer.

“Move.”

“It’s serious either way. Let’s just take her.” The female voice pleaded.

“It’s getting dark, guys!” An older, raspy voice echoed loud enough to resonate her eyes open fully in the midst of just listening to the voices.

“You’re awake?” The female knelt in closer once again.

“Please—,” her voice wavered in response to the female voice, thoughtless.

“Jaden.” The female voice sounded stern but pleading.

“Fine.” She her something digging into the ground next to her before she fell into a dark as black as the night around her. “Take her.”