Thank you to KiaraRebolledo and Antares2810 for the comments! Another thank you to all those who have left kudos so far, such as ReadingNut and Minbaozi. You guys inspired me to write the second chapter early.
"And here it is, our final night alive
And as the Earth runs to the ground
Oh girl, it's you that I lie with
As the atom bomb locks in
Oh, it's you I watch TV with
As the world, as the world caves in"
Matt Maltese
Chapter 5
#-#
I have come to terms with my situation and I believe that it's about time that I die.
Seriously.
Death would be preferable to what's happening to me right now.
I was so stupid for butchering the rabbit beast so close to where I claimed temporary refuge because right outside, almost nine meters from me, was a mantis. The ugly and grotesque beast was picking and combing through the remains that I refused to put through my palate and into my body.
I had not wanted to eat the head of the rabbit, not interested in its tongue or brains and eyes, so I had left it there and now that the praying mantis was chewing through the head to eat at the brains, the crunch of the skull and its bones became more and more apparently with every crack and wet pop.
Ew.
I think I was starting to become numb due to my constant exposure to the fear and isolation on this cursed island. I was starting to get used to the stress of it, it just blurred together in a mix of feeling and unfeeling.
Instead of fear, I was feeling anger. Delicious and new, I embraced it like one would a long-lost lover, and I welcomed it like a drought welcomed rain. The bugs had terrorized me every night, in my dreams, and in reality, they made me wake up in a panic, made my blood freeze with ice, made me jump up at every noise that happened hidden from my view, and made me completely paralyzed when I heard any kind of clacking.
I hated them with a passion I didn't even think could exist. I especially hated the way the mantis used its claws to slurp the bloody intestines like they were delicious restaurant noodles was disgusting, the way it moved was disgusting, its raptorial legs pushed together bringing the feces-filled guts closer to its mandibles to consume, everything about it was just disturbing.
I wonder if it'll be possible for me to kill and exterminate this island of them?
I gripped tighter at the small knife that was left in my bag, (why would my kidnappers arm me?) and took in one deep breath, letting it out, before I reached down with my other hand and scooped up a handful of dirt. It spills from between my fingers, getting in my nails and sticking under them and when I lift my hand back up, the dirt starts falling almost inaudibly. I watch placidly, my face unmoved, unlike the dirt and stones I had just picked up.
I desperately craved to be confident in myself and my abilities again. I have never felt so little, so mortal, so insecure. I have always trusted myself and always believed in my capabilities, but that self-assuredness had washed away in the waves of that sinking ship and left a shaken timid lonely girl to fill its place.
When the mantis finally moved on from its free meal and walked away on all six of its legs, I learned and committed to memory a couple of new things about them. The first being was that it could rotate its neck a full 180 degrees, (why, just why), and the second was that it could barely hear but it had an amazing vision, lastly, the wings it had were for show, I think that the way it evolved turned the wings useless and was meant for intimidation rather than flight. All of this matched what I knew about their infinitely smaller counterparts, however, I wasn't an entomologist so everything I observed was iffy.
I had waited for about two hours, maybe for the mantis to get further away, or maybe for a savior, before I started to deconstruct the entrance and make it wide enough for my shoulders and hips to squeeze through, an undignified crawl for sure, something I had only experienced when I went for a dig through an exciting game and pulled myself through the dirt, it made my shirt rise just a bit, showing my freckled toned flesh, but I was being accustomed to the filth that was accumulating on my clothes and skin.
When I'm able to get onto my feet, I sway unevenly, my muscles sore from the cramped space I fit myself in. I started to half-heatedly pat away at my clothes and body, more out of habit than out of necessity and care of my appearance before I resolved myself to start my no doubt laborious day.
Free time has become a scarce commodity, but it's not like I have ever allowed myself to waste time, to waste progress. Even before my kidnapping, my daily schedule was always filled with training, both at home and with my team, and it always left room for me to become better. Even the train rides back home after school and team training never offered free time, because after training I would spend time studying or taking care of household chores and responsibilities.
A faint cool breeze greeted me and ruffled my hair, it broke me out of my reminiscing as well as caused the leaves to shake from their overhanging brown limbs, it came with a gentle swishing sound. Normally the quiet psithurism would cause me to relax, the gentle whisper of music and nature combined used to always promise it, but now the music felt mocking and haunting.
It sounded more like the hissing of beasts now, like the calm before the storm, like a threat.
It made the hairs on my arms bristle and my stomach curdle.
Craning my head far back, I gaze up at the sky that stretches above me and all the other worldly beings trapped on the surface, a soft orange washed out by a deep blue, it started to creep closer to the horizon with the approaching morning, it may have been around eight or nine in the morning but I couldn't tell for sure without a clock or sundial.
I walked through the forest, the crackling undergrowth and snapping twigs greeted my every step as I focused on my goal. I could feel the overgrown weeds brushing against my pants legs and the wet grass felt like cold slime trails snaking across the bare skin of my calves. There were tree roots crisscrossed all over my path and I had to look out for them so I didn't trip and possibly injure myself.
The previous small and frequent rains left muddy puddles scattered all over the forest floor and the dew beads that dropped from the overhead branches shimmered with the rising glow of the sun. The humid air around me gave off a sweet scent of petrichor and it caressed my senses with a calming ambiance.
If I had forgotten about everything that had happened to me in the past couple of days, the experience might have felt nice. I could have pretended that I was just going on a hike through nature and all the sights it had to offer for the first time in months, but I ended up getting distracted when I saw Spike come into my view.
He looked so focused and serious, not in a bad way though thankfully, having him alongside me helped teach me what was safe to consume and his senses were much more powerful than mine. If Spike didn't eat or touch it, I figured that neither should I.
It's still weird to think that he's omnivorous, I know that some species like pigs evolved from being carnivorous to being able to be omnivores, but that took many years of evolution. Direwolves were supposed to be extinct, so I wonder just how far off I must be from humanity if they were alive and evolved after all this time.
Spike had stopped for a moment to relieve himself and I slowed down my movements so he could catch up easily. When he came trotting back to my side, I resumed my speedy pace.
I was looking for the downed tree I had noticed yesterday, I wanted to take advantage of the branches it had so I could use them to create a few weapons. I would be able to give them a pointed edge with my knife and wouldn't have to rely on putting myself in danger when attacking from the limited reach a knife offered.
I was hoping for at least a couple of spears so I could have a fighting chance at an attack from a distance instead of having to prison-shiv any of the dangers that I would face or be attacked by. It could also help with hunting, fishing, and give me a further reach when it came to getting the fruits out of the trees.
Who would have thought that the summer survivalist camp Mom forced me to go would come in handy?
A tingling at the back of my skull whispered to me that maybe she was planning for me to end up in a situation like this, that maybe all these things happening to me were planned and that's why I had my backpack and all those supplies. Another, more loud and rational part of me batted away that thought and insecurity, I know full-heartedly that my mother loves me and would never endanger or betray me like this.
Right?
—
It took me some time snapping the branches off of the tree, but when I was finally done, I had a sizeable amount to carry back to the den. The bumpy skin of the bark was rough and had repeatedly scratched at my hands until they were irritated and had formed new callouses to join the ones I'd been getting almost daily. My palms looked gnarly and I hoped that when they healed up some, the scars and callouses would look cool, not like I rubbed them against a cheese grater.
It's not like I wasn't used to effort, almost all of my days were filled with doing straining and tiring tasks, (Spotify being a huge cheat and help), but I wasn't used to these kinds of conditions. Even when I was at the wilderness camp I wasn't worried about hunger or danger, I even had people around me whom I was able to talk to and get help from, I was never challenged in this way before. Was it wrong that some little part of me enjoyed the challenge? The small part that hyper-focused on the glory, applause, and action that Volleyball gave me? I would easily give up this experience for some dark chocolate and warm hugs from my family, but there was something new and satisfying about this, maybe it's just the adrenaline junkie in me.
Carrying the branches in the humid sunny weather was a nasty sensation, it caused sweat to slide down from my face, getting it in my eyes and mouth. Ugh, humid weather has always felt uncomfortable, but this place took it to the next level.
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I hissed from the burn the sweat caused to my raw hands. The stinging subsided after a few moments, but it made me pay more attention to my surroundings.
Spike, who was proving to be the cutest goodest boy ever, was carrying a branch in his mouth, it was more like a twig but it made me stop and bend down to pet him.
"Who's a good wittle puppy?" I started, scratching his ears and the side of his jaw, "It's you, yes it is, who's a cutie patootie?" His tail started wagging uncontrollably, spreading little dirt angels on the damp ground, he was so happy and excited from all the attention he was getting and it lightened my heart and made me grin.
I fucking love dogs.
When we finally got back to the den, I bunked down and pulled out my knife so I could get started on the weapon-making. Spike had plopped down alongside me and started chewing on his twig, he was twisting it around with his paws to chew at the best angles and he would probably demolish it in a couple of minutes.
I took the longest branch and started peeling the bark off of it. This was going to be my spear, and I was going to sharpen it on both ends so I could stab animals and bugs better. Yikes, that sounded a bit psychotic and crazy, but it's a good thing I'm not (only for cute guys and Volleyball).
Once I finish this, I can start on the others and if I finish early today, I'll just collect some bananas and other fruits for my trip.
Who knows, if it goes by fast enough, Spike and I could be at the beach by tomorrow and signal for any aircraft to come and save us. Maybe our raft would still be on the end of the cliff?
I hope so, I'll need it to go fishing and if help never arrived, I would have to go out and find my family myself.
Be my own hero and all that other inspirational crap.