I woke from the black, returning to the sunburnt rays of sundown. My mouth, drier than ever and the last fluid in my body threatening to be released through my mouth. I swallowed hard, it was harder now, I was basically just swallowing dry air.
I had to find water, or some fluid soon. One more night and I may not wake.
I was glad though, when I gained consciousness that I was still in the tree, knowing my luck I would of fallen out. The smaller limbs on my side must of kept me from falling to the leaf litter.
I checked the ground for any sign of my stalker, but there wasn't one clue if he was around or not. There was silence, not even the wind and I couldn't see any obvious signs of him moving around.
'I wonder if Corey is still there...' I asked myself. He could be my only hope of getting help and to not, well, die.
I looked down at my leg where the stick had severed it, the bleeding had stopped but I knew that I must of lost a fair lot of blood because where I had my leg placed on the grey branch, it was a pale red. I checked my arms, no insect bites from sticking my arms through the thick bushes, but there was scars littering my white skin.
Turning my body around to lower myself off the tree I found my head was thumping harshly. Sort of like a hangover, although I hadn't drunk anything for almost three days. Three days... thinking that I hadn't drunk anything in that long that I realised that I haven't eaten either... I wasn't hungry at all though. If I was offered a plate of food I probably wouldn't even touch it, I didn't even feel like I had an empty stomach. Strange.
I turned my body around and shuffled my leg awkwardly, I started climbing down the tree. Stopping at the next strong branch to hold my head, as if holding it would settle the ache. After about three minutes of deep breathing I regained my climbing.
Finding the footholds on the way down was harder, I had to be careful not to knock the stick coming from my leg. I could tell with any more pain I would more than likely pass out again.
Finally, my feet got to the lowest fork, the one I jumped onto. Facing my front to the trunk of the tree, I lowered myself down, trying to find dents in the bark to use as footholds.
I reached the ground, my cold feet crunching leaves under my light and ever thinning frame. I peered around the grey-white trunk in the silence.
The forest was as undisturbed as it was when I drifted off, only the occasional soft rustle of possums reaching safety before the owls came out to hunt on their small furry prey in the darkness.
I grabbed my head again, regretting running away, but not ever wanting to return to the spooky confinements of the dull room. I remember my pure fear when I woke, a few weeks ago. I was so shocked, so frightened of what had happened and what was going to happen to me.
I regret not telling Lily about my strong memory of the kill. I'm still not totally sure why I didn't tell her, I guess she was the only one I could trust and well, I didn't want to put her in danger. She was so kind to me and all, and with her help I had my name to say and I was starting to grow more familiar with the world.
I missed Lily. She was the one that helped me through this, I owe her so much.
I looked back to my surroundings, the bush silent again now, almost too silent. Perhaps I could make it back to Corey, hopefully I could anyway...
I took a few unsteady steps, only just becoming aware of my spinning head. It felt as though I had been on a V8 engined merry go round for ten minutes then walked off to find myself walking around as though the world was tilting over, threatening to make me fall off.
YOU ARE READING
Remembering Hope FindlayMystery / Thriller
"Hunted, hunting and almost gone." Hope, a natural hearted teenager. That's where it stops. What would you do if you couldn't remember anything from your life? What would you do if you didn't even know you had a name or what you were doing in hospi...