With Our Own Eyes

Day 9

August 4th, 2013

Exactly 21 days until my birthday; and the only present I'm willing to bet I get is my life. Of you're still reading this, I hope you have better days then killing zombies 24/7. You and I both have earned some days of peace. Well, guess I'm gonna explain everything that happened today.

So far, Meteor drove us-and he's only like fifteen years old people-down the highway and finally came to a stop near some mountain hike. Meteor says the mountains are the way to go. We just started hiking up the mountain. No zombies, no nothing. Just kept hiking.

I felt my legs give out by the third hour and I stumbled to the ground, unable to move. I had already gone through three water bottles in one long drink. At the same time I fell, Nate and Riley fell as well. Meteor just stopped, checked his compass, then sat down.

"Are we there yet?" Nate pants.

Meteor ignores my brother's snide comment and gives me a water bottle. My legs feel like they're on fire. I touch one leg and it feels like I'm jabbing a bruise. When I drink the cold water, liquid pouring down my chin, I am reminded of Carmen.

FLASHBACK:

It was a marathon at the school. You just jogged with a friend and at every corner of the track there was a fruit and water stand. I always got the fruit, Carmen always got the water.

"Orange?" I say, holding one out as we walked.

"No thanks." Carmen says, taking a drink from her water.

Meteor looks at me with concern. "How about we set camp for today?"

At that I lay my head against cool rock and fell asleep. It felt like only a minute passed before I woke up to the feeling of something tickling my hand. I sat up and freaked when I saw the spider and flung it from my hand. No matter how scary zombies are, nothing gets past spiders.

There's a tree hut built around me and when I poke my head outside I see three other tree huts. The sky is a dark blue and a bird is still chirping somewhere. I decide to hunt.

I'm following the noise of the bird when I suddenly see it, sitting on a limp. It was hard to describe the colors or the breed in the fading light. I pull an arrow from my satchel and string it onto the bow; pulling the string as far back as it will go. I let the arrow fly and strike the bird right in the shoulder. It falls quietly to the ground and when I walk over to it I'm heartsick.

It was a baby bird. Very small, with soft feathers. It lay with its wings crooned over its head upon a pile of leaves. I pick it up and feel a slow heartbeat. It opens its small eye at the touch and stares at me asking, 'did you inflict this pain to me'. My finger, pressed to the chest feeling its heart, feels the heartbeat get slower and slower. I run a finger across its severed wing and it makes a sort of sweet chirp. Then it dies.

Sort of ironic that I'm a hunter and yet I can't even watch myself shoot a bird.

After leaving the bird and taking the arrow, I head back to the hut, feeling light headed. I only see the tops of the tree huts before my head hits cold stone and everything goes black.

~Juliana