Atlanta
I hear Lorraine scream and Phoenix curse before I realize what has happened. Tim's eyes, they are wide, and they are scanning. Scanning for sticks. I look down. The lower half of my legs are submerged in murk and... Something. I wriggle my toes.
I am stuck.
Now, there are many ways to go about being stuck in a bog. Struggling and screaming your head off is one of them. And that's fine, it's fine if you want to drown in the middle of nowhere, returning to the earth that apparently, we all came from. But dying like this has never been part of my plan.
If I was going to go out, it was with fireworks and explosions, not in a bog like some lowly peasant.
"Just don't move, otherwise you'll drown. We'll find a stick or something, " Tim orders me, and Phoenix, his eyes, his brown eyes are glued on me. He looks a lot more panicked than I am. And I'm the one who's going to get choked up with muck, pretty damn soon.
"Oh, that's a pity, " I tell Tim " I was planning to dance the kankan, gotta practice my act for when I join the circus, "
"Shut up Atlanta, " Phoenix curses at me and goes off on a rant in Spanish. Sometimes, I forgot that Phoenix's mom, is from Spain and that my friend speaks that language too. It is comforting somehow, to hear the tumble of words out of his mouth, though I am certain that I hear 'idiota' and 'muerto'. I know enough Spanish to understand.
The ground beneath me open ups a little more, devouring my knees.
"Take your time finding that stick, or whatever, " I say " don't let my impending death rush you in any way. You know, Buddha said that rushing around wasn't good or something, "
"He never said that, " Tim snaps " there are no sticks on this goddamn bog, you're going to have to wriggle, "
"Uh, that kinda goes against the whole - don't move or you'll die rule, " I tell him, and my feet sink deeper, my thighs disappearing under the ground. Panic begins to set in. There is no way out. Fuck. My feet, they feel like two pillars of lead, too heavy to lift, sealed in cement. They don't feel like my legs anymore.
"Lie down flat on your stomach, " Tim instructs me, and I stare at him, incredulous. I want to stay above ground for as long as possible. Not go under it. Seeing that I won't move, he glares " just do it Atlanta, "
"Atlanta, please, " Phoenix says. Lorraine just looks scared.
Slowly, trying not to move too much, or to make sudden movements, I lower myself onto the ground. My stomach lies flat against the bog, the dry, coolness seeping in through my shirt. I think with a twinge of regret about my white shorts, now ruined. Where the hell did I get the idea to bring white shorts to a survival camp anyway?
"Okay, now you're going to have to wriggle, " Tim tells me " like they do in the army, "
I try. I really do try. I wriggle my body. I use my elbows, trying to drag my body painfully behind.
"I can't move, " I say.
"Yes you can, " Tim looks annoyed. Who the hell is allowed to be annoyed with their teammate who's stuck in a bog?
"No, I can't, " I tell him calmly " my boobs won't let me, "
And it's true. They're too big and they're getting in the way of my wriggling. Phoenix groans.
"Atlanta, you either start fucking wriggling, or I'm coming down to get you out, "
He knows that his words will get me moving. The little cheat, he knows how to manipulate me. I begin to wriggle. It's like this weird dance that I'm performing. I'm a snake.
Hiss, hiss, hiss.
My hips go free. I wriggle with more passion now, my body swaying, my abs straining to pull out my lower body. Hey, I think, if I get out of this alive, maybe I'll join the circus.
Hiss, hiss, hiss.
The path is closer now. My knees are above ground. I can't help think how ridiculous and hilarious this is. What kind of story it will make. I know laughing right now will annoy my teammates. So I focus on staying alive instead.
Hiss, hiss, hiss
My legs are fully free now, I'm being pulled up, up onto the path, and into Phoenix's arms.
"Oh God, " he mutters into my hair, and I'm pretty sure that there's bits of bog stuck in its strands " fucking idiot, "
A second pair of arms go around me. They're too small, too slim to be Tim's. Lorraine is hugging me too. I tighten my grip around her. I can see Tim, a little bit away, watching us and I remember how confused Tim was when I first hugged him, on the very first meeting.
I had done it to annoy him, because he looked like the kind of guy who didn't get involved in feminine activities, such as hugging. But now, I feel a little sorry for him. Maybe, he really doesn't know what love and friendship are.
My two huggers release me after a minute of silence, and then Lorraine says
"Don't curse Phoenix, it's not nice, "
I laugh, and Phoenix snaps a photo, me - dirty and disheveled, and Lorraine, her face the proper mask of primness. I smile at Tim. A grateful smile.
"Thanks for saving my ass Tim, " I say to him.
"Well, not winning better be worth it, " he says " I'm expecting you to be extra nice, "
Then I remember.
"I got it, " I tell them, and when they all look at me, dubious, hold out my hand. There, resting on my grimy palm is the final puzzle piece.
YOU ARE READING
Turmoil
Teen Fiction""And you see, maybe people, maybe we're like those cars. We meet others, we crash, some crashes more powerful than others, we change. Impact. It means the death of something, doesn't it?" Tim : (adjective), a writer who's feelings are pressed into...
