Dangerous Fellows

OUR STORY | 006

| Present Day |
| Gray |

Red. I see red.

The bark of the Sycamore tree was sandpaper against my finger tips, the only thing reminding me of my location; ten feet up in a tree, slumped over and balancing on its limb. I'd failed gymnastics as a little girl, so there's a good chance I'd wind up crashing to the ground sooner or later.

Not yet, though.

I clung to the bark, my grip like a vice. I forced my breath to be slow and deep. I was trying to be silent and still allow myself to take in enough oxygen for my starving body.
Blotches of white mixing with red and yellow.

My vision had become blurry the moment I made it to the base of this tree. Most probably due to dehydration, or sleep deprivation, or maybe starvation. Any of those could render someone totally helpless in a matter of days. At this moment, I felt like I was suffering from all three.

My chances at survival were dwindling. I blinked my eyes, sight, slowly returning to me.
Green. Leaves. Lobed. Healthy.

I'd started this habit whenever I felt an attack coming on; name anything I could see. Focus on them, until the episode passed. Even when the cold sweats would start and my eyes would no longer be my own, I knew my vision would return to me. It always had.
It was the heart palpitations that lasted longer anyways. Sapping my strength and making me wish for it to be over. For it all to end.

Toadstool. Pine cones. Tree suckers.

But it hasn't ended. Not yet.

Each day is like the one before it and each day, I continue to be helpless. No one knows what's going on. Only that some unknown virus has taken over the minds of our loved ones, friends, neighbors. And now, the Earth smells of decay and the streets give me anxiety. Making me routinely check and double check, before I climb down from whatever perch I'd decided to cower on.

At least a full month has passed since the day it started. I had my period on that day. Another one had come and gone, and three days had passed since I'd finished that one. This is how I kept track of my days now. The days of the week and the numbers of the month, however, useless to me. Today was just that; a day.

A child's toy. A Cho Cho Train. A tattered face mask.

I was hungry. My stomach, pinched uncomfortably tight, the reason for my latest trip to the ground. It was unsuccessful. Whatever walnuts and new shoots I'd ripped from the ground in my frantic collection, had dropped back to the ground when I hauled myself into this tree.
It was that smell again; rich and acidic, iron with a hint of bile. Most of them had that smell. I couldn't hear them, yet. No. I'd been lucky. If I'd heard their noxious groaning, and still been on the ground, I wouldn't have to worry about my empty stomach anymore. The idea, eerily comforting. Anything that could make the pain go away, deserved some consideration, right?
A gurgling moan shook me from my thoughts. It was quiet. Barely audible. I held my breath. Focusing on the thicket ten yards ahead of me.

Now, a second sound, high pitched and weeping. That one was behind me and seemed all too human. I remained silent. Frozen.

Mother and child emerged from behind the fallen tree. I peered at them over my right shoulder. She was limping and a stream of dried blood clung to the side of her face. Blond strands, stuck to the wound. Cradling the infant in her arms, she was searching. For what, I'm not sure. Maybe a way out of the forest. Or a place to hide. I didn't tell her she was in danger. That there was a walking corpse in the area. No. I said nothing.

When she called out to me, I continued to say nothing. But my heart leapt into my chest and my head started making colors bloom again, clouding my vision. I became cold despite the day being rather warm. I held onto the tree tighter.

"H–Hey!" She called out to me. Glaring at me. "Help me. Please!"

I didn't respond, knowing there was nothing I could do.

"You've gotta help me!" She screamed.   

And then the gut wrenching scream rang out. She knew what it meant, too. She hadn't gotten out of the way in time. She should've known better.

"You selfish bitch! Are you going to just let me die? Let my baby die?"

There was no need to close my eyes. My panic attack, already loading my vision in blotches of white and red. Erasing the scene before me.

I heard the rustle of the leaf litter. The blood curdling moan of the mindless corpse.
The woman's screams. A baby taking down another. A tussle on the ground. Another scream. The sound of an arm coming loose from its joint. Making a pop sound. A squish sound.

It was the voice I heard next, that brought tears to my eyes. An infant. Wailing. Pleading.
It went quiet in minutes. Both of them fell silent.
The only sound that reminded, was something I'd only ever heard on the television. One of my favorite programs; Animal Planet. Like a lion gnawing on a Zebra carcass.

That's what I imagined. That's the lie I told myself.

Because I had to remain in that tree, listening to it all.
Because I couldn't leave until it was safe to come down.
And whenever that time came, I'd leave to go find another perch. Another place to hide, and then, I'd do it all over again.

Because each day is like the one before it–––and each day, I continue to be helpless.