Wings

1: Like A Dream I Can Reach But Not Quite Hold

I GOT A NEW FANFICTION IDEA AND I NEED TO POST IT SO HERE Y'ALL GO:

WPOV

Track: Show Yourself, Stephen Scaccia

"You're very good at stalking people," I call out into the darkness, shivering. I'm curled up at the base of a tree, and I'm terribly unprepared for the cold night air. I'm not even wearing shoes—they were wet, so they felt even colder than the air, so I took them off. My socks, too. Except now my feet are exposed to the frigid air biting my skin, and I can't quite figure out how to stay warm.

I don't get an answer from my stalker. Not really shocking, I guess.

I pull my knees closer to my chest, and my muscles are taut from the cold. I wonder how long it takes to get sick from weather like this. Then I wonder how long it takes to die from weather like this.

"You've kind of chosen a horrible time to stalk me, though," I tell the stalker. "I'm pretty sure you're just about to witness my tragic death from exposure to the cold. You should probably go home."

Again, my stalker says nothing.

They've been following me for hours. Maybe longer, actually—I might not have noticed them at first. Maybe they were already watching the moment I ran terrified into the woods, sprinting as fast as my legs could carry me without a second thought for the essentials I would need to survive on my own. I just knew I had to get away.

Maybe the stalker saw me step into the creek in my attempt to cross it. Maybe they watched me take off my shoes and socks and then immediately proceed to have a mental breakdown because I have no fucking idea what I'm doing out here, and I'm terrified that I'm not even going to survive the night. I wasn't prepared for this. If I had known this would all happen tonight, I would have packed an emergency bag with extra socks. And food.

"You don't have to freeze out here just because I am," I tell the stalker. "If you have a home to go back to, you should go. It's not safe to be out in this for so long, and you've probably been here as long as I have. If not longer."

No response.

"If you're going to stay out here with me, you might as well introduce yourself," I say. "I'll go first. My name is Will Solace. I'm nineteen years old. I was going to be a medic one day, before tonight happened. I guess that dream's not happening now." A particularly strong gust of wind whistles through the trees, and it feels like it blows right through my shirt. The cold steals my breath for a moment. I try to talk through it to avoid another mental breakdown:

"I can't go home," I say. "So...if your plan is to follow me home, that's not really going to work. I'm stuck out here. But you don't have to be. You could leave. Are you lost? I could try to point you in the right direction, but to be entirely honest, I have no idea where I am, either. But at least it might help you feel better if you talk to someone. We could team up to get you home."

No response. I hear some branches shifting though. Is my stalker in the trees, or is that an animal? Maybe my stalker is an animal. Maybe the stalker has actually just been, like, a bear or something that's going to try to eat me. That would explain the unresponsiveness, at least, but not why I'm still alive.

"Are you stuck out here, too?" I ask them. "I can't imagine there's any other reason that you'd be following me so far. No one would want to be out in this weather if they could help it. If you're stuck out here with nowhere to go, we could team up to try to survive together. Do you know how to build a fire?"

No response.

"I guess not, or you probably wouldn't be here freezing with me," I concede. "Are you a bear? Am I talking to a bear right now? Honestly, the sad thing is that I can't even bring myself to care. At least I'm talking to something if I'm talking to a bear. At least I'm not, like, the only living thing out here."