The Trail (MAJOR EDITING IN PROGRESS)

Search and Destruction

"Are you going to stay there?" The voice tugs at the corners of my consciousness, calling me to and from the in-between. It's a world you go to before you freeze to death, a small dulled conscious gray area where you have a choice to fight and be miserable, or rest and be warm before dying quietly.

"Go away, it's warm," I hunker down, allowing the sleepy silent death to grab ahold of me and dance quietly to music of my choice.

"Is Holland warm?" The voice asked, full of caring reasoning, almost like a father figure.

"Maybe... I don't know," I mumble to the voice in my mind.

"You asked for help, now take it."

"How is this help?" I angrily thought. My feet begin to feel like ice, and my hands are shaking.

"It's your choice, and your last one."

"Holland, how much are you worth to me?"

"Please, help me wake up... I want to help him."

My body screamed in cold pain, and I found myself with my nose in the dark ground, I turned my body to see the truth, and the sight of a sky filled with stars and a waning crescent filled my eyes.

There is a throbbing pain my shoulder blades, like someone is slowly driving a nail into the muscle. Every bone feels like it is freezing the skin around it; and my skin feels like sandpaper has been rubbed across it, and the blood was allowed to halfway freeze.

I sit up, feeling the cold air envelop every particle of my being. I fumbled with the zipper and after a minute, I finally got it zipped up. I looked for the fake-Holland, but not surprisingly, he's gone.

"Although his blood isn't here either. Please God, let that have been a fake copy of Holland and not him possessed. Please."

The sky and stars are blurry, as if someone took a brush and smeared the colors,

"My glasses!"

This isn't Scooby Doo, and this isn't some ploy at comic relief, although I wish it is. If I don't find them, then I won't be able to find Holland. My near-sightedness is going to kill me out here.

"I'm sure I will fall and die. I will fall into a bottomless pit and tumble forever and ever. And when I do stop falling, I'll smash down into the ground. My body'll be no more than a small lump on this field of death. I will die, and I know that I will. I might as well end it now..."

I pulled the Camelback around and pulled out a kunai. It's black blade glints off of the light from the stars, giving it an alluring appeal of kind danger. It's a harbinger of death, and it's mine.

"I just have to cut up my arm, and this will end. I don't have to worry about Holland... I can damn myself to Hell by refusing to believe in the end. Then I can be with him forever, in flames made of fury."

I smile with giddiness, and take the end of the kunai to the back of my wrist and begin to dig it into my flesh and slide it upwards.

I used to cut when I was younger, and everyone said the pain of cutting helped them with the pain in their life, but it never hurt. I sliced my legs and arms, and I never felt pain, but I did feel relief. I was a bad girl, and the slicing of my unmarred skin was my punishment.

"It still doesn't hurt! I can't feel any pain!" I maniacally grinned in pleasure. All I can feel is pleasure; drops of my blood run down my arm, leaving traces of their red deliciousness all over my body. I fought death earlier, but now I'm allowing the embrace of her cold arms.