Gold Fever (m×m) ✔

XX: Under a starry sky

《 ELIAN PHOENIX 》

Listening to the rustle of dry leaves under the soles of my sneakers became meditative after it had gone on for hours. I was lost in my thoughts and wondering about how being alone wasn't the same as being lonely. Like, let's say, how miserable you sometimes become after having slouched in your room for one weekend, and how other times you enjoy your solitude so much you start to wish you never have to see another soul again.

When I'm alone, I never seem to stop thinking. My brain bustles with ideas, and pretty soon everything is all over the place. Contrary to what every intellect says, you can think too much, and sometimes thinking is dangerous. Anyhow, right then, I was glad to have these thoughts about loneliness and whether or not thinking was bad for your health. It distracted me from worrying about what the hell I was supposed to do next.

I had left the camp with my chin up high and chest filled with determination, but the growing brightness of the day had knocked the reality of my plan into my face. As per usual, I hadn't thought it through, before acting on an instinct. There were plenty of reasons why leaving on my own was a terrible idea:

1. I didn't know the first thing about survival skills, so in the worst-case scenario I was going to follow my favorite character's path and end up dead because of some rookie mistake. I could already picture myself consuming a poisonous mushroom and dying after hours of vivid hallucinations about pink ducks that looked like tiny, cute piglets and puking my guts out.

2. My attacker was still out there and by carrying on on my own I was making myself an easy prey. But then again, he could no longer try to get to me through my friends, and it ensured their safety, so I guess this was a risk worth taking. 

3. I only had my stowage from Birdy's minibar to feed me for like half a week and then I would have to try my luck with the poisonous mushrooms and diarrhea water. After all, as we concluded earlier, I'd rather starve to death than start hunting.

4. I had no music. Sue me, but I couldn't just snap my fingers and stop missing it after I gave my portable CD player away and vowed that I no longer needed it.

5-100+. All the other people who wouldn't mind freeing my miserable head from my miserable shoulders if they stumbled upon me, the lack of a tent or other camping supplies, me getting lost without my personal wilderness guide, losing the last remnants of my sanity in solitude,.. I could go on and on, and then some more, but thinking about that turns my stomach into knots.

"I need to piss." I muttered to myself as I got off the trodden trail and into the scrub of long grass, patched with dry loam. While I relieved myself, I took a look around. There in the middle of all the green leaves was something light gray and man-made. 

Walking in the humid heat of the day was a bore, so the idea of finding shelter to rest and work on my plan sounded pretty damn amazing to me. And as that gray, man-made thing looked a lot like a roof, I started making my way to it after zipping my pants and fastening the shoelace which I used to keep my jeans from sliding right back down.

The building was small and ramshackle, with greenish paint that had started to flake off a millennia ago. The best part, though, was the roofed porch with craggy boarding and stairs. The door was left ajar, and air inside the cottage was musty, reminding me of the smell of sodden wood. There was no furniture, except for one ancient looking bunk bed, where I had no intention of sleeping in, without beddings.

I dropped my backpack on the floor and slumped on my back with an exhausted sigh. My feet were aching like never before. I was starting to think I had truly made a terrible mistake by coming here on my own; the thought of not knowing how to take care of myself in a place where there was no help around scared the living shit out of me.