Fragmented Morality

Ch. 12

This was it. This was what life, somehow, always boiled down to. It was always just me and them, in the end. So why was it so hard for me to come to terms with it?

I stumbled blindly through the woods, hardly able to see anything ahead of me. The moon was in a waning crescent, blocking out all of the light that might have once guided my way. Because why wouldn't it be? Why wouldn't it be the second darkest phase when I had to run from walkers late into the night?

A co-worker had once said to me, 'monsters never sleep'. I didn't know what it meant or why he told me. I once thought that, maybe, he knew about Ed and was just giving me some sort of crappy 'advice' to mull over, but I soon changed my mind. I'm pretty sure it was something he had just made up to sound poetic and wise. Even so, it would seem he wasn't entirely wrong.

It was like they waited for me every time I stopped. Every time my body felt like it couldn't go on anymore, they were right around the corner and I had to move again. Except, by now, I was so exhausted I probably sounded just like them; feet dragging through the softened dirt and leaves, bumping into anything within the immediate surroundings; if I wasn't lost before, I was now.

I couldn't tell my left from my right and the world had become hazy for quite some time. There was static in the air, whispers in my ears, and nothing made sense to me. There wasn't a single coherent thought in my head by the time I found myself trying to take the advice I had so often given my sister.

I had my arms lifted as high above my head as I could with the swelling, my hands gripped onto a low-hanging tree branch, and one foot planted firmly against the base of the trunk. I had to find somewhere off the ground to rest and a tree was the only option I could think of within this maze of pitch-black darkness.

I was ready to stop and get some rest, even at the risk of falling in my sleep. However, every time one door opened, another had to close, right? Wasn't that the saying?

The second I tried to lift myself off of the ground; the second my feet weren't planted firmly on the earth and most of my weight was carried by one injured and one slightly less injured arm, I was met with the recurring pain of my shoulder trying to slip out of place for a second time.

The bark dug into my hands, further compromising the integrity of my skin. The feeling made me want to give up as much as my body was about to give out. But, if I was able to close my eyes for even a moment, it would have all been worth it. That thought had me push on despite the aching, burning, and stinging pain running through my nerves.

Heaving myself up further, I felt my grip loosen, threatening me with another forced contact with the ground. At the thought of falling, my heart began to palpitate. I was terrified of what I would do if I couldn't make it.

Would I have to sleep on the ground? Or would I be forced to stay awake? I didn't know which thought I feared more, but by some twisted act of fate, with one final exertion, I was able to toss myself over the branch, the tree digging into my abdomen the way it did my hands; I finally managed to pull myself up.

Draped over the branch, I greedily sucked in the air like I was a starving animal, my lungs screaming from overexertion. I thought doing so would bring me some semblance of relief but, instead, it felt like every breath was coated in fibreglass and no amount of oxygen would be enough to stop the burning. My skin felt hot and itchy from the pure velocity of which blood was being pumped around my body and nothing seemed to settle the tremors in my extremities.

I wanted to just stay where I was, but the height of the branch was not proportional to how much pain I was in. At this level, anything could have reached my legs if they tried- I had to climb higher, even just one bough. While it wouldn't have been enough to stop anything with a brain from seeing me in the daytime, it would prevent the flesh of my legs from being torn apart for breakfast.