Left to Die

Chapter 1~A Rocky Beginning

I am left to die, cradled in the desolate embrace of a tampered river and a piece of bread, now a grotesque feast for maggots. The river, once pristine, now bears witness to the sins of my own hands—the very hands that produced the toxic blend of sewage and chemicals. The bread, once sustenance, has withered under the relentless sun, shrinking into a pitiful raisin. O, how I long to unravel the enigma of my predicament! Yet, the answer eludes me, slipping through the cracks of my fractured memory like water through cupped hands.

Amidst the decay, I acknowledged the familiar faces that were laid in front of me. Their bodies bear the scars of violence, bruised by cudgels wielded with merciless intent. One body had a cudgel that had pounded into them so heavily that it remained gouged into the person's body, as fragment of their rib cage were laid wasted along the floor, scattering themselves amongst the splatters of blood, a grotesque signature of brutality. The second, spared the cudgel's wrath, wears a patchwork of bruises—a canvas of purple hues framing itself as a Dalmatian's coat. Yet, their faces were hauntingly familiar. They looked so familiar that you couldn't even lie about it, as if the bodies were a mirror of my own existence.

But hunger gnaws at my soul, drowning out the echoes of memory. My stomach squelches and gurgles at my slow starvation. Life drains from me, leaving behind an empty vessel, contorted like a raisin forgotten in a dusty corner.

I started to grapple with questions that defy reason. Why am I here? What deeds led me to this crossroad? The river's tainted waters lap at my feet, whispering secrets I cannot decipher. The bread, now a graveyard for maggots begins to beckon my name.

As it calls for me, my mouth drools at it. Despite it's disgusting appearance, my hunger overpowered reason and has left me craving for any type of food that can give me sustenance. "One bite would be enough." I whispered to myself, and I took that satisfactory bite. Yet, my desperation knew no bounds and I was not quenched, and I found myself quickly devouring the bread, my mouth began vacuuming it up and the maggots cut in half and left in mush. I felt guilty and nauseas, yet I would still do it all again just to silence the roaring of my belly—a sacrifice to survival.

After that distasteful meal, it had dawned upon me that I had nothing to do and no-one to help me. I was left alone to my own devices, with no other food or any drinkable water. I was quite literally left to die, and with no support or human contact I grew insane and wild. I started to become like the animals that surrounded my in the dead forests that wither. My mind started to wander, like a curious traveller, it roamed through the vast landscapes of thought. It drifts from the beige to the magical, from the bareness of the obis to the illusion of joy. But amidst this mental meandering, I sometimes lost my way, leaving me feeling adrift in a sea of thoughts.

I found myself shackled to a life of uncertainty, burdened by the weight of jagged stones upon my shoulders. These stones were not mere physical boulders; they were thoughts of despair, contemplating suicide, and questions that put life itself into a dull perspective. Their oppressive presence gnawed at my soul and sapped my courage, urging me to seek refuge in a place untouched by the corruption and the blackness of pain. These thoughts that I share with you now laid me astray from more pressing issues, yet in that moment of clarity, I realized that the world had forced my hand. I could no longer remain ensnared in this perilous state of depression. As my access to the necessities of life were being vanquished by the sword of time.

Within the confines of my mind, a relentless clock ticked away the days—no, mere hours—I had left. Desperation drove me to scour the desolate landscape, with cracked mud that had its life dried up by the unseen laser that looked down upon us.

It had only just dawned upon me that—I couldn't linger here, clinging to the fragile hope that this was all a dream, destined to untangle itself. I was being unrealistic in my high aspirations that I may live to see a world that is not bound by the uncompassionate embrace that the world had given me. Although it still remains not entirely clear on why I am here, I must put faith into myself that I can find an unpractical and unaffectionate solution. Yet the embrace—the very one that had once cradled my hopes—now constricted, throttling my optimism until it lay gasping on the ground and leaving me as a frail body that lays upon the ground awaiting the executioner's blade.

I knew that I could not stay here whilst possible murderers could be lurking. I was scared of course, scared that I would become one of the lifeless sacks strewn nearby. This unexpected odyssey that was thrusted upon me, wasn't very appealing. As I had no knowledge of what to do next, this is the uncharted world. Should I sprint blindly in any direction, praying for the best? Well, I had no other choice. So, I surveyed my surrounding, wondering what direction would be best if I wanted to escape this perilous world. I felt as if each direction was a door, possibly concealing a tiger. I didn't have to pretend I felt it, because I was living this unfortunate decision. This was truly a life-or-death situation and that was the only choice I had. This was all so unexpecting and I felt as if I was left to die.