Man's Down

The Long Trek

I couldn't believe it. She died. My own daughter died. It's not possible. How could it be possible? I needed to leave this place, leave this nightmare. I couldn't stay here, in this dream. I waited until morning, grabbed my battered backpack before asking where the back exit was. I knew it would have been important. The door was much less secure than the main entrance, it was much easier to open. The door slammed shut and locked behind me.

"Excuse me?" I asked to one of the guards near the gate. "Where did the trucks go?"

"Trucks?" He looked at me inquisitively.

"The trucks that left town, yesterday afternoon. Where did they go?"

"Oh they went to the coast, I think. Off to the English countryside. Supposedly safer there. I don't think so."

"Oh. Okay, well thanks for the help."

And I was on my way.On my way to find my wife. I walked along the long winding road that took me in the direction of the coast. The sun was rising, and shone its rays over the sea of green. A few bunnies ran across the hills. I was on my way.

A few hours passed.The sun blazed on my tanned neck. I approached a small town, and thought

about staying there for the night. No. No, I had to get on my way. I had to reach Summer as soon as I could. I had to check that she was all right. I walked into a small supermarket and scanned its rows of empty shelves for something that I could eat. I was incredibly hungry. A solitary tin of anchovies stood there, lonely. It cost ₡5. I bought it and then sat on a nearby bench. I ripped open the lid and slid three fish down my sore throat. Delicious. Still no drink, though.

It was late afternoon. The sun was setting, and crickets were chirping. I was still thirsty. I turned off the road and went down a little beaten pathway. There was a small stream, flowing into a pond. There was also an overturned tree, creating a hole in the ground. I dropped my blue battered backpack and slurped the water, greedily. It tasted clean and fresh. I started to take off my clothes and placed my shoes into the shirt, like a pillowcase. I filled the rest of the shirt with grass. As I took off my socks, I realised how bad my feet were.Hard bleeding blisters had formed at the heel, but it felt good to let them into the fresh air. I kept my trousers on. A breeze picked up. I tried to make a fire out of twigs from the tree, but I couldn't even produce a spark. I began to get annoyed. I was angry at the world, angry at God, angry at myself, angry at everything. The flame of anger was getting bigger, soon it felt like it would swallow me whole. I snapped off branches of the tree and hit them against the floor. I was unstoppable. I carried on breaking and smashing until I had no energy and fell on the floor, exhausted. By now it was dark and I decided to go to sleep. I huddled under the fallen tree and shivered. That night was the roughest night of my life. I barely slept, if I did it was only in five minute segments. The nightmares about Lily and the short stabs of cold haunted me all throughout the night.