Lost In Your Footsteps

Warm

~Andrew~

It was dark, night even.

It was wet and cold.

And I was too exhausted to feel hungry.

Through the slow-motion of my eyes opening, despite the blurry picture that lay in front of me, I could see my surroundings. My eyes were full of water while I scanned the forest around me. Taking in the blurry details of the trees being engulfed by the clouds' cries.

The trees reminded me of myself. Even in the darkest situation, I refused to leave because it was safer to hold on. Hold on to what? I have no idea. But it felt like there had to be something. Otherwise, I wasted my time staying. Holding on and wishing for the best.

~~~

Burning.

I woke up to the smell of burning next to me.

I was weak and nauseous with acid bubbling in the back of my throat, not having eaten a single thing for the past 3 days since the incident. If this forest was on fire when I opened my eyes then so be it. I would have to thank the gods for the blessing.

Instead, what I found was a man.

Or a teen. Maybe he was my age but whatever. I was a town over from where I should be so no one would recognize me here, nor me them. He was dragging a cloud of toxins out of his cigarette, filling his lungs with the tar-laced drug. I watched as his broad chest grew and collapsed, the smell of burning exiting his airline.

"Why are you out here?" He asked with an emotionless face giving me the indication that he didn't care but felt it would be immoral if he didn't ask. I didn't care myself since, to be honest, it wasn't his business, and I'm not stupid enough to trust a stranger.

"I like nature." I retorted with a strained raspy voice.

In truth, I hated it. It was dirty all the time. Wet. And gave no room for comfort as proven by the animals that had instincts telling them every day that they would die if they didn't run or hide, feed themselves by killing another thing, or stay close to some source of water.

I could never live like that. Being caged by my own instincts. It was awful the first 16 years I was doing it so I believe it's time to do what I want. Even if it means sleeping in the woods and lying to someone who could potentially help me.

The young man shook his head at the short answer probably knowing well I had to be lying. Either the short answer gave me away or the way my body was shaking from the cold with my face red and eyes puffy from the past 3 nights I've been crying myself to sleep despite the aching pain coming from everywhere.

His dark green orbs rested on my hazel ones with a second of concern before contorting back to the former 'well maybe you should go the fuck home-' look as if that wouldn't be obvious enough had I been able to go back.

"How long have you been here?" His voice was deep with a speck of country accent in its flare but nothing more and could easily pass for being without.

"I just got here," Another lie.

"Well considering you're shaking and wet, I'd say you've at least been here since last night." He looked around the forest after eyeing my current health crises up and down. Irritation at my inability to be honest with him, growing on his face and pinching his brows. He took an even longer drag than before from the cigarette, flicking his thumb to shake the ashes.