Slam your hands against the scorching hot steering wheel and realise that you've made a stupid mistake.
A deadly mistake.
Outside of the beat up ute, the beauty of the outback begins to morph into the barren wasteland where you know that you'll meet your demise.
Get out of the ute and check the emergency supplies. You forgot to pack them.
Idiot.
Tears begin to swell in your eyes. Lick them, hoping that they'll be enough to fuel you until you figure out how to crawl out of this grave you've found yourself in. They're salty.
The sun beats down and your skin grows hot. It'll burn.
The only thing that comes to mind is trying to find refuge. Maybe there's a town nearby. Maybe this isn't the end.
There's nothing left here, in the car. Look around at the wasteland. Sand, dirt and dried up excuses of shrubs line your sight. Well... It's now or never.
Take the first step. Then the next. Your legs seem to move on their own, knowing the urgency of the situation. Let yourself drift into a rhythm.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Your feet take you on a journey and you watch. Watch as a dead tree comes into sight. Watch as it passes. Check behind you to see the ute fade into the abyss of distance. Watch as the horizon in front of you wavers as though the ground is cooking itself with the sun's heat.
Watch.
Watch as the sun begins to set, spilling pretty pastels over the monochrome sky. It makes you happy. Maybe it's a sign.
You walk. And you keep walking.
Into the night.
- A night that bites into your skin, threatening to burn you with its chill – a polar opposite of the sun's threats of burning during the day. You begin to think that the day's familiar danger is better than the night's scary unknown.
Risssssssss... the sound of a rattle rings in your ears. And you stop. Walking. This one sound breaks your rhythm, forcing you to become painfully aware of how badly your legs ache from hours of walking. You're not even sure you can support your own weight anymore.
Collapse to the dusty, dirty ground. Let the tears that have been building in your eyes pour out as though flood gates have just been released. They roll down your cheeks, carving paths through the layers of dirt that have built up over the last few hours.
Possibly the last few hours of your life.
Lie down in the dirt. Give up. Risssssssss... Be startled. Be scared, and sad. A snake, you realise, but you're too far gone to get yourself up and run away.
It slides over you and your heart beats faster. It gets into a rhythm. You watch. The snake slithers over you as though you are no more than a piece of the earth.
You're already decomposing.
Your throat is dry, your muscles ache, and your heart yearns to stay alive. But your eyes close, already accepting fate before you do.
Lay in your grave. In the grave that is the outback.
YOU ARE READING
The Grave Outback
Short StoryA winning short story for my school's writing competition. The prompt was 'the Australian landscape' and the max word count was 500 words. I hope you enjoy this unique story that just so happens to be written in second person, present tense...