ALL THAT WAS LEFT BEHIND

Confusion Hurts

The truck was completely ransacked.

            The wheels were punctured with jagged stab wounds and the windows smashed to sharp shreds of broken glass, resembling razor teeth around the edges of the window. The big old thing would evidently have to sit there with its injuries and abandonment, as it was near useless. He should have felt a short stab at his heart for the truck’s sentimental value to him, but Jarrod was then in survival mode.

            Muttering under his breath, he ditched the idea of the luxury of driving to safety, and sprinted off towards the path. He entered into the forest, relying on the ebbing spatial map he barely remembered to find the general direction of town.

            The trees bounced through his shaky vision and blended into an array of green shades around him. The brightness of the sun streaming into his eyes were like rays of pain that absorbed through his eyeballs and irritated his already sore brain. He tried not to grimace. He scampered along with the weight of the world crashing down, and his Goosebumps backpack, on his back.

            Somewhere between the piles of mossy rocks and broken trees, Jarrod blanked out and lost all traces of thought. Except for, of course, that he needed to run.

He saw the side of one of the main roads through the thicket and was brought back to the world of reality. He was no longer an animal of prey, and was instead a putrid looking man coming up at the side of the road. He heard the calming sound of rushing cars rolling along and let his mouth perk up into an optimistic smile. Running on sheer adrenalin, he made it to the edge of the road.

            He waved his arms in the air frantically, fearing that he’d be noticed by the enemy, but knowing that revealing himself to the public was his only choice.

            “Come on,” he muttered. “Somebody, please.”

            After watching the cars passing by for a few moments, Jarrod suddenly felt rather self-conscious of his appearance. His dark shaggy hair was too long and greasy from lack of cleanliness, and parted at odd angles. He could also feel it fizzing and curling up the way it does after not showering for a few days, a feeling he detested. His clothes were rumpled and dirty, and the stench of his own body odour tickled his nose. But there was nothing he could do about any of that.

            Come on, please!

            He continued to silently plead. He jumped up and anxiously searched each car that past for any sign of it slowing.

            Moments after frustrating people rolling by with their heads obliviously turned, his heart began to sink. He hated having to trust any fellow human beings, and the one time he had to, he was let down. Jarrod turned his face to the ground, solemnly interested in the hard dusty dirt barely meeting up with the rough edges of the highway.

            He scuffed it with his shoe.

            Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a run down little pink jeep rumbling up ahead of him. He noted what a strange thing it was, and stared up ahead at the scene, and how it all seemed to tie into the dull, rusty blue sky. The pink jeep became closer and closer.

            Wait. Is it slowing?

            It was. The jeep strolled over to him invitingly, increasingly slowing down before him. He suddenly felt as though he were in a really bad comedy movie, for as the occurring reality seemed all too out of reach.

            Was this a joke?

            He sighed, and realized that it was better than nothing, and opened the door before climbing inside. He slumped down on the ratty old leather seat, finally being able to catch his breath. Panting heavily, he glanced at the driver and slammed the door shut.