Forgotten and Lost

"Now what do I do?"

The darkness began to fade, giving way to the stars. The ringing in his ears was overwhelming. He strained his eyes trying to focus on anything but darkness. Everything felt like a haze. The night sky was clear but moon less. Embers danced into the air above him, following a grey smoke lit from below by an orange glow.

A sharp pain gripped at his side as he cried out in pain and laboured his breath. Dragging his hand across the dirt to clutch myself. The skin felt tender to the touch. The world was just becoming clear as he brushed his other hand across his face, but it was wet. Through the haze of his vision he could make out the red on his fingers. A drop fell from his hand onto him, but his face felt numb. Searching his forehead with his fingertips, he found a fresh small cut above his eyebrow. Still dripping blood, which rolled down past his eye onto the dirt.

The ringing started to give way to new sounds, crackling and popping. Grunting in pain and clenching his face tight. He rolled just enough to rest his check on the dirt. A sharp intake of breath as he puts pressure onto his tender side. Slowly opening his eyes again. The brightness of the glow overwhelmed his vision. The shape before him, bellowed with smoke and embers. In the water's reflection, flames flicked and danced among the trails of smoke. And the ground was bathed in the flames orange glow.

Rolling onto his front with cries of agony as he does so. He grips at the dirt, and tries to push against it. His arms buckle under him, bringing him crashing back down. The dirt sticking to blood across his face. His breathing is heavy and sharp, almost chasing the air but not being able to keep up. A roar of pain as he pushes off the ground again. Making it to his knees, he refocus his eyes on the glowing shape.

"No" He mutters. "She. No."

His mouth loosely attempts to form words, but nothing comes out. His stare is long and hard, but lost. His hand feelings like it is shaking, but it doesn't physical seems to be, but he's sure he feels it. The feeling of shaking spreads across his chest, penetrating deep into his core. His breathing becomes erratic and uncontrolled.

"The boat. Home" Still frozen in place as he spoke, his view struggling with every word.

He stared helplessly at the boat, slowly drifting from away from him dragging its lines. Fire had broken through the roof and towered over the boat. The paint had peeled from the sides. The glass had cracked within the frames. And the wood had begun to fold in on itself. It was a floating wreckage rather than a boat. Just the outer structure remained. And a small piece of cloth, hanging from a post at the rear.

Stumbling to from his knees to his feet, the pain in his side and the throbbing in his head had been completely overridden. He swayed slightly as he scanned around him. An axe was embedded into the side of a wooden post by the riverside. A short length of rope lay below it, frayed at one end. As he dragged his feet through the dirt closer to it, he could clearly see a red mark on the back of the axe's head. Maybe this is what hit him? Was he hit? By who? Trying to think about what happened made the throbbing more intense. All he had was a haze of nothing.

He stumbles backwards away, staring intensity at the axe. His heals had become caught on something, causing him to fall over backwards. Landing hard, the pain in his side had shot through his body, demanding to be noticed this time. Struggling for breath, he looked down at his feet to see his rucksack. Strapped to the front was a stuffed toy dog, covered in dirt and grime, but he looked happy. His eyes focused on the stuffed toy, still panting but he didn't move at all.

"What happened?" He breathes heavily "What happened to her."

He reached for the toy, unstrapped it from the rucksack, and pulled it into himself. He wrapped his arms around it tightly and buried his head into it. His eyes remained open, locked onto nothing, just staring. His grip tightened as his hands began to shake.

"No!" He screamed at the boat as he leaped to his feet. He took the toy in one hand and while yelling out incomprehensibly, he throw it out into the river. He began pacing quickly back and forth, his hand holding his face as he looked at the ground. After a moment of pacing, he stopped in his tracks and looked into the river. Without a word, he jumps straight into the water and starts swimming towards where he had thrown the toy.

With just the glow of the fire to guide him, he frantically splashed around in the water searching for the toy. Luckily he brushed his hand against something in the water. It was the toy, he breathed deeply with relief. Holding it tightly again with one hand while the other kept him afloat.

"I'm sorry buddy." He whispered to the toy. "I'm so sorry."

He paddled over to the riverbank he had jumped in from, and climbed back onto land. His boots squelched as he stepped out of the water. And his shirt hung heavily on him as it dripped with water. He brushed the wet hair from his face, and rubbed the water from his eyes. He then took the time to carefully strap the toy back to his rucksack, giving it alittle pat on the head before picking the bag up in his hand. He started to walk away, but just as he turned he looked over his shoulder at the axe again. Walking over to it, he put his heal against the post, and pulled the axe free. He took a moment, just to breathe and think.

"Now what do I do?" He whispered to himself.