I Am Creation

○ Chapter One ○

The title is from 'Creature' by Half-Alive.

George had woken up in a forest surrounded by trees and plants that looked yellow and dead, he had woken up with no memories but his name. He had breathed quietly and laid still for nearly an hour before he got up. His thoughts felt clouded and his vision blurred, his breathing echoed and his blood rushed in his ears. George lent against a mossy tree, everything looked wrong and dead, not how it was supposed to, he knew that.. Somehow. He wiped his hand on his trousers and turned to gather sticks, as the time passed damp sticks piled in his arms poking into the bare flesh on his forearms. When he was satisfied with the amount of sticks he dumped them by a tree with a thick trunk. He had moved quite far from his original spot in the forest where he had laid for an hour. He took the bendy vine he’d found on his voyage for sticks and placed it on the ground before he sat legs crossed against the tick tree by his sticks, mind numb to the wet of the damp ground of the rainforest sinking into his dark trousers. His eyes scraped through the dirt in search of rocks, he found two, one in a puddle of muddy water and the other under wet and dead leaves that covered the earth. He grabbed them both wiping the muddy one on his dirty trousers, he steadied the rocks against the ground and his hand, he struck the rock on the ground with the one in his left hand and loud clunk of stone on stone sounded through the forest, the background noise of birds and crickets silenced. George shivered and eyed his surroundings, the trees had begun to look like looming figures of nightmare in the growing dark. Dragging his eyes back to the rocks he struck them together again, he frowned and thrust his arm forward with as much strength as he could, a large chip of the ground rock came off, white powder on the one on his hand, flipping the rock he repeated. Soon the rock had been chipped to be sharp and he tied the sharp stone to three of the sticks tied together with the vine as best he could. With a glance at a thin tree to his left he stood and hefted his axe, he spent nearly half an hour chopping down that tree with his small stone axe, eventually he slumped against the thick tree with sweat dripping down his back. The annoyingly loud sound of his breath annoyed him, it made his palms itch and his legs twitch, it made him want to scream. He snapped his mouth shut and with one final exhale his eyes slipped shut. 

He dreamt of bright suns and existence in a meadow of green grass that looked alive, places where he walked on water. He dreamt of a blurry man with blonde hair and a white face. Green. He wore a cloak in a strange colour, an odd looking yellow, also looking dead. It wasn't meant to look like that. Why? George did not know.

He woke at almost midday, still leant against his tree, where he would lay for another two hours with mind numbing cold seeping into his bones, fog that surrounded his brain and clouded his eyes. He was hungry. Unbelievably so, but he was more tired, too exhausted, too confused so he opted to sit and stare at the dark blackish brown mushrooms that brushed against the cluster of bananas that sat on the ground barely five metres away, he blinked and for a moment he forgot where he was. The forest. Where he slept and laid still for hours on end. Where misty rain surrounded and choked his coherence. Food. He stared at the bananas again, he reached forwards and moved for the first time since yesterday, grabbing the bananas by the tips of his fingers he dragged them closer, crushing a couple mushrooms on the way. George couldn't really remember how long or when the bananas had been on the floor or even how they had gotten there, but he ate them anyway. Three bananas then he sighed and his palms itched, his left hand found the handle of his axe and he brought it to lay in his lap, he stared with disgust, it was a really ugly thing. Never had he ever created something less of pure beauty and grace. George frowned, never could George remember why he thought such things, never could George remember crafting another axe. But, regardless when his eyes fell back down to the axe in his hand he found a grey diamond axe with a blue hue, gems and gold encrusted in the polished wooden handle. George stared for a moment, the fog in his brain thickened and he forgot, he'd always had a diamond axe encrusted with gold. George stood up, he followed the trail of mushrooms to find the forest ended in a cliff. He stood for a long time before he realised there were buildings down there, that all lead to one building in the middle, with pathways in a plus shape. There were farms, built into the water near the centre building, there were fenced off territories and small movements George recognised as people. In the distance he saw a small area surrounded by tall black walls. George quickly lost interest in civilization when he saw giant mushroom growth far closer to the cliff, without much thinking George saw a lake and waterfall beneath where he stood and jumped. Wind whipped in his ears and blew through his hair, his baggy shirt pulling behind him and his pant material rippled against his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut when the wind began cutting into his eyes, his skin and seconds later he slammed onto the water. 

GeorgeHD fell from a high place.

Thx for reading.
-Av