I wasn't quite sure what month it was or how long I'd been out in the wilderness by myself. There was a time when I would count the days as soon as the sun fell from the horizon, hoping at every sunrise that I would be saved from this nightmare. That hope burned for a while but finally diminished at the dreaded fifty-two week mark. After that the rest of the days began to blur together.
If I had to guess I would say that it had been about two years since I was thrown into nature's brutal elements. I tried to think about it as little as possible. The thoughts, memories, they only brought added heartache to an already grueling situation.
Still I was constantly reminded of the agony by the changing of the seasons. I used to think that nature was beautiful, magical, but without shelter or safety it was difficult to bathe in its beauty while my eyes were strained for survival.
First I had endured the blistering summer, then the chill of the frosty autumn air, then came Vermont's brutal winter. When the weather was at its worst I craved the short spring, it felt like paradise compared to the blistering cold.
The cycle repeated, if I had to guess it was sometime during late April or early May. The snow had melted only weeks prior, every now and again I would even come across a small patch left in the depths of the forest under the shade of the trees. It was sure to dissipate anytime now due to the constant rainfall of the day.
The rain brought life to the flowers that were due to bloom on the bottom of the forest floor. My only hope that better weather would be soon to come.
Out in the wild I had too much time to think. I wouldn't allow my mind to travel to the past if I could help it, instead I filled my brain with thoughts of survival. Where would I find shelter from this rain? Would I eat today? What would I do if I came across a hungry predator? Would today be my last? The questions that rattled me since being out here. It was all consuming.
Once in a while a trivial thought or two would rake my brain. I wondered if my birthday had already come and gone. Was it today? I really had no way of telling. Last year the thought never occurred to me, but most people don't spend their eighteenth birthday stranded in the wild.
Then again, most people have at least one person on the earth that cares about them. Me on the other hand, I had no one. Not a single soul on this planet to worry or care for me.
Besides my so-called parents I wasn't even sure if anyone even remembered me or knew that I even existed. Quite frankly, I wasn't even quite sure that they did either. How could you sleep at night knowing that you left your daughter to die? In this case I was sure that they slept just fine.
My mind drifted to the year prior when I had caught my first fish in the creek. I cooked the trout on the fire, indulging in the much-needed protein. That was truly a gift. A gift that my starving stomach craved.
I couldn't help but think that there might have been someone up there in the clouds that was looking out for me as I faced this obstacle. Taking everything into account it really was a miracle that I was still here at all
YOU ARE READING
My Saviors
WerewolfSince she was a young girl Rose Duvall had been on her own. From the time that she was just six years old all that she could remember was the trauma and abuse. She never knew love, companionship. She knew what it was supposed to look like, but never...