BEYOND THE DEAD ZONE | COMPLETE

Fifteen |

Fifteen |

It was cold—I was cold.

I walked aimlessly through the forest before finding a run down cottage that was overgrown with plants and so on. For a moment I even debated staying inside it, but that thought quickly left my mind. The cottage was a wreck. It was so buried in foliage I could barely make out the shape, and not to mention I could practically smell the wood rot from where I stood. For a moment I just looked on the sight, wondering what this cottage used to look like. I imagine a scenario in my mind, a family from before the Dead Zone coming here every summer. Maybe they make hot dogs over a fire, or play boardgames inside, it didn't matter what they did, not to my daydream. It was more about the time, not the actions.

"I wondered if they were happy," I whispered, shivering to myself.

They had to be. Living their little happy lives with materialistic fears. I didn't know those fears, not even a little bit. Well, maybe I did. Mom would argue I did. Living on the island protected and never having to fight for my life. But I was fighting, at least I think I was. I was trapped in a place I was forbade to leave, watching as everyone around me always left, always watching them in danger. I think my life was worse than hers, I think having the choice to fight is much better than no choice at all.

"Fuck it's cold," I whispered, pressing my hand to my forehead.

I looked away from the cottage, looking into the forest around me. I must be close to the wall now. Turning on my heels, I look into the forest around me. It would be night soon, I should find shelter. One that won't literally fall on top of me. I sighed wrapping my arms around myself. I was soaked to the bone still and so fucking cold. I should make a fire at least, but would this be the best spot for it? Most likely not. I should find an opening of some sort. At least then anything around me would be just as exposed as I was.

I walked off, dragging my tired legs as I went. Every step I took I could hear the squishing of my wet shoes, and the chuffing of my wet pant legs. It felt like I was wearing my skin down. Eventually however, I did come to find an opening. It was just perfect timing too, because the sun seemed to be dropping faster than I could keep up. Moving to the middle of the grassy field, I huffed, dropping my bag onto the floor. My gaze moved over the area carefully. It was quiet, as quiet as it could get. There was a slight breeze that moved through the trees but aside from that, there wasn't much else movement.

My eyes dropped down to my bag. I wanted to sit down for a moment, but I knew if I sat now, I wouldn't be able to get back up. I felt like a zombie myself. Slowly, I began to move around the clearing. Slowly picking up branches before walking back to my bag and dumping them onto the grass. Repeat until there was a large pile. Then I looked for some rocks, and did the same. Fill my hands with the dirty rocks, dump and repeat. Once I was too tired to keep going, I sat down beside my bag. I did as Dad taught me. A circle of rocks, then start placing the sticks in a tipi structure in the middle. Then the hard part: the fire. According to Dad it was possible to create fire by wood on wood, but extremely difficult. So, I grabbed two other rocks and began hitting them against each other. After a long while, there was a spark, and eventually fire. I breathed out slowly, laying on my side facing the fire. I should strip down to just my underwear and dry my clothing but I was so tired, I couldn't bring myself to move.

At least the fire was warm against me.

My eyes fluttered shut, sleep came easy.

"Eero."

That voice...I knew that voice.

"Eero," it sang my name, "How long are you going to sleep?"