Death's Collector
Chapter 1
If you’ve ever been lost before you know that the panic doesn’t start to set in until after you’ve wandered for hours. At first, you’re convinced you know exactly where you are, that you should just keep walking and eventually you’ll recognize something. You don’t realize you’re lost until the sun starts to set and you still haven’t seen your friends, or anyone for that matter. When I was 16 I drank too much and wandered too far from my party into the desert. No one was watching, no one was caring. We were young and invincible and too smart to die.
I wandered in the heat for some time before I started to think that maybe I was lost.
At first I just assumed I would find my way back, because I knew these rocks and sands like the back of my hand. I had grown up in this desert and I had wandered before and found my way back with ease. It wasn’t until the dehydration started to make my mind wander that I started to panic. The sand was hot, the ground was hard, the world was evaporating before me. I watched the horizon line move and shift in the heat of the sun, it never stopped moving. By the time the sun had started to set I had wandered farther than I ever knew possible. The vast expanse of tanned, cracked earth before me seemed ready to swallow me up. I knew I wasn’t going to get out of this and I started to accept the fate I had made for myself. The sky was on fire with the setting sun, hot orange and bright pink. I figured if I was going to die at least the view would be nice. I found two rocks that had come to rest against each other forming a shelter from the outside world. I kicked at the ground to awaken and disturb any life that may be hiding and waiting for me. A small lizard scurried away faster than I could follow. I sat down and fell against the ground, it came to meet me before I could react.
I laid there in the dirt for what seemed like hours, the sun had set and the desert was dark. It was cold and it was unforgiving. I knew I was going to die and I knew it was going to be slow and I would be aware the whole time I was dying. These weren’t the thoughts a 16 year old should be having. I should have been getting too drunk with my friends and the worst thoughts in my head should have been if the vomit was going to come out of my favorite jeans. But here I was, alone, cold, and defeated, laying in the dirt waiting to die.
At some point, I drifted off into sleep, or perhaps unconsciousness.
I was awakened by a very light grazing of my face; my hair being moved out of my eyes. It wasn’t wind, it was deliberate. I opened my eyes to see a figure crouched before me. I panicked and recoiled, shooting back into the rocks that sheltered me. They stood up and the top of their body was out of sight, shielded by the top of the rocks. They said nothing, the did nothing, they just stood there above me. I knew I was delirious, I knew it wasn’t real and yet something about this figure seemed unwavering and solid. I slowly crept out from the rocks that hid the face of this dark apparition. I stood up unbalanced and stumbled sideways. They extended an arm and caught me. Everything was blurry, there were no lines only waves. The figure guided me out of the rocks and onto the road and sat by me as I shivered alone waiting for someone to drive by. I waited for what seemed like years. The figure next to me never spoke, they never moved, they never touched. Whatever delusion I was having, whatever was with me was stoic and shadowed. I knew it wasn’t real but it felt oddly close, like it was a part of me.
Sometime in the very early hours of the morning, when the sun had barely peaked over the horizon I saw headlights coming near me. As they approached a fear swept over me, what if they weren’t going to help me? What if whoever was coming towards me was worse than the barren desert I had wandered? As these thoughts raced through my mind and I started to think maybe running back to the rocks was the safest idea the figure next to me put their hand on my shoulder. I turned to them and finally I could see their face. They had no discernable features that told me if they were a boy or a girl. They didn’t seem any age, although I assumed they were my age. They were wearing a plain black hooded sweatshirt and black pants. I looked back in the direction of the car, quickly standing up and waving my arms frantically. They stopped and asked me what I was doing in the middle of the night, alone, on the side of the road. I turned back to my companion and they were gone. Evaporated like the horizon line. They told me to get in and took me to town where my family had been frantically organizing a search party, hoping I wasn’t dead somewhere. After being hugged and cried on I was scolded and grounded for the rest of the summer. I never forgot that night and for years I assumed I had hallucinated my way out of the desert, out of death.
That was until my second encounter with death.
I wandered in the heat for some time before I started to think that maybe I was lost.
At first I just assumed I would find my way back, because I knew these rocks and sands like the back of my hand. I had grown up in this desert and I had wandered before and found my way back with ease. It wasn’t until the dehydration started to make my mind wander that I started to panic. The sand was hot, the ground was hard, the world was evaporating before me. I watched the horizon line move and shift in the heat of the sun, it never stopped moving. By the time the sun had started to set I had wandered farther than I ever knew possible. The vast expanse of tanned, cracked earth before me seemed ready to swallow me up. I knew I wasn’t going to get out of this and I started to accept the fate I had made for myself. The sky was on fire with the setting sun, hot orange and bright pink. I figured if I was going to die at least the view would be nice. I found two rocks that had come to rest against each other forming a shelter from the outside world. I kicked at the ground to awaken and disturb any life that may be hiding and waiting for me. A small lizard scurried away faster than I could follow. I sat down and fell against the ground, it came to meet me before I could react.
I laid there in the dirt for what seemed like hours, the sun had set and the desert was dark. It was cold and it was unforgiving. I knew I was going to die and I knew it was going to be slow and I would be aware the whole time I was dying. These weren’t the thoughts a 16 year old should be having. I should have been getting too drunk with my friends and the worst thoughts in my head should have been if the vomit was going to come out of my favorite jeans. But here I was, alone, cold, and defeated, laying in the dirt waiting to die.
At some point, I drifted off into sleep, or perhaps unconsciousness.
I was awakened by a very light grazing of my face; my hair being moved out of my eyes. It wasn’t wind, it was deliberate. I opened my eyes to see a figure crouched before me. I panicked and recoiled, shooting back into the rocks that sheltered me. They stood up and the top of their body was out of sight, shielded by the top of the rocks. They said nothing, the did nothing, they just stood there above me. I knew I was delirious, I knew it wasn’t real and yet something about this figure seemed unwavering and solid. I slowly crept out from the rocks that hid the face of this dark apparition. I stood up unbalanced and stumbled sideways. They extended an arm and caught me. Everything was blurry, there were no lines only waves. The figure guided me out of the rocks and onto the road and sat by me as I shivered alone waiting for someone to drive by. I waited for what seemed like years. The figure next to me never spoke, they never moved, they never touched. Whatever delusion I was having, whatever was with me was stoic and shadowed. I knew it wasn’t real but it felt oddly close, like it was a part of me.
Sometime in the very early hours of the morning, when the sun had barely peaked over the horizon I saw headlights coming near me. As they approached a fear swept over me, what if they weren’t going to help me? What if whoever was coming towards me was worse than the barren desert I had wandered? As these thoughts raced through my mind and I started to think maybe running back to the rocks was the safest idea the figure next to me put their hand on my shoulder. I turned to them and finally I could see their face. They had no discernable features that told me if they were a boy or a girl. They didn’t seem any age, although I assumed they were my age. They were wearing a plain black hooded sweatshirt and black pants. I looked back in the direction of the car, quickly standing up and waving my arms frantically. They stopped and asked me what I was doing in the middle of the night, alone, on the side of the road. I turned back to my companion and they were gone. Evaporated like the horizon line. They told me to get in and took me to town where my family had been frantically organizing a search party, hoping I wasn’t dead somewhere. After being hugged and cried on I was scolded and grounded for the rest of the summer. I never forgot that night and for years I assumed I had hallucinated my way out of the desert, out of death.
That was until my second encounter with death.
♠ ♠ ♠
finally getting back into the writing game: let me know what you think