The Death Thief

A Walk through the Woods

Like with most things in my life, I was a failure at dying.

After spending the entirety of my little brother's graduation party explaining to distant relatives that I hadn't changed my mind about college and was still working the print press at StarStud Media, I went to the local outdoor supplies store and looked at the hunting rifle section for an hour. I left when security got called over. I told them I hadn't noticed I had been standing there that long.

A few months after that, I found a brochure I had printed for one of StarStud's clients. I ran my finger along the edge, admiring the crisp lettering of properly aligned ink. A passerby also grabbed a pamphlet from the young woman who was handing them out to spread the word about her bakery's grand reopening. The passerby didn't look at it before he threw it into the trash. That night I bought a bottle of vodka to wash down a handful of aspirin. I hadn't had vodka before. I tried a small glass. It tasted awful, so I threw it out.

Feeling a bit down and rather claustrophobic in my apartment, I made an effort to get out more. So one day I decided to tag along with my roommate, Angie. She never talked to me much — because we worked different hours she'd say — but when I asked if I could go out with her and her friends one night, she immediately jumped on the idea. We ended up going to a club. She hadn't told me that's where we were going and I didn't feel properly dressed. I followed her friends to the bar and I made sure not to order vodka. I wondered if Angie knew about the bottle I tossed because she asked what I had ordered when my drink came over. When I told her it was just soda mixed with cranberry juice, she looked happy. She made sure I didn't drink at all that night, even when her and her friends were practically falling over. After I drove them all home, I ended up driving around some more with no destination in mind. Instead I simply wondered what speed I'd have to go to break through the guard rail and into the trees. I never found out.

It was after I held a knife to my throat and dropped it the moment it grazed my skin, that I knew I couldn't be the one to instigate my own death. However, I wasn't anyone's best friend, so I had no one to do it for me. That just left me with Mother Nature.

I didn't bring my phone with me that night, so I don't know how long I had been walking through the forest. I had driven for two and a half hours before my car ran out of gas. The clock read 7:42pm when I turned the car off and left it on the side of the highway. Once I jumped down the embankment and began my trek through the woods, time ceased to exist.

I followed my feet, letting them guide me just as I had let my hands determine what road to turn down next. I tried not to look at the signs. I didn't need to know where I ended up, I just needed to know it would end. Without anything to sustain me and only the clothes on my back to keep me warm during the brisk March night, I was completely within Mother Nature's hands. However, at some point my stomach started to grumble, my feet grew numb, and, to my great distress, I had nowhere to properly relieve my bladder. Certainly I expected the hunger and the chill, but I couldn't just go to the bathroom without anything to wipe with. That would just make my walk horribly uncomfortable. I tried searching for a large leafy plant to use as makeshift toilet paper. However, I had never appreciated just how little shrubbery there is beneath the canopy of a forest.

I did without. It was uncomfortable. I wanted to go home.

I started spinning in circles, looking for something familiar, but all the trees looked the same in the dark. I strained my ears, hoping to hear the sound of a car speeding along the dimly lit interstate, but all that broke the silence of the night were the bugs chirping their lullaby and the rustle of wind dancing through the leaves.

I thought of crying out, but I wondered what else may be lurking in the woods. I'd always lived on the outskirts of the city, a sheltered suburbanite who knew nothing of either rural or urban living. Perhaps there were bears, wolves, or cougars. What would happen if I drew them to me? Death?