Mistake

Chapter Four

I wake up feeling drowsy, not used to so much sleep required for healing, or staying off my feet for so long. Ha, I can practically feel the extra calories building up, corrupting my hard-earned muscles, turning them to mush.

I shake my head quickly, and brace myself against the wall and try to pull myself up. After many failed attempts, (and several discouraging looks from the cat) I spot my cane/crutch stick and use it to help support my ankle. It works, but barely, the cave floor slippery from the cold and damp that always seems to exist in caves. I stop for a moment to stretch my legs, crack my sore back that aches from sleeping on the hard ground. I daydream about my tree, thinking off how it would have been easier to stay there instead of panicking and leaving. Stupid, you're not some runaway girl scout, you should have been more prepared!

I sigh, and decide I should really stop talking to myself. I open my bag and try to assess how long it would be until I needed to go back to the coast and sucker some tourists for food. The list goes as following: (as I am probably somewhat OCD and need a list for everything, even if its only mental)

One half empty cat treat bag, various running clothes, an unopened medium-large trail mix, three granola bars, four water bottles, a collection of maps with various condiment stains, 3 medium sized towels (2 dirty, 1 clean), a few granola bars, and an assortment of unidentifiable trash-gunk that always seems to collect at the bottom of my bag no matter how tidy I promise myself to be.

Not bad. I've been in worst places, but this won't last me more than two or three days. A draft comes in the cave, goosebumps begin to speckle my arms. I tuck my blanket in tighter around me, so it feels like I'm a giant burrito. In the process, I drop my various items, and end up be less comfortable than I started. I crawl around, really leaning in a way, so my ankle's movement is kept at a minimum, trying to gather up my stuff. Once everything is back in order, and settle down for another lazy day, my knees start to feel restless, letting me know that I wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon.

I sigh, earning another withering look from the cat. I stick my tongue out, being the immature creature I am. She makes an arrgonant sound and glares at my bag. Ha, she must think we're going on a run. My chest aches, wanting the wind in my face, the sense of freedom that you can't feel with a car or a bike. Its that natural, almost primative freedom that makes you feel like you don't need anything, not depending on anything to take you where you need to go.

I shake my head quickly, trying to shake out the thoughts. I need to work on keep those thoughts out, otherwise cabin fever is going to come on way quicker that I'm ready for.

Finally, your favorite time of the day.. Do-I-Have-Zombie-Feet? I unwrap the torn tank top from my foot, trying not to see how dirty it is, the blackness a sharp contrast to my very pale foot. I should change this time to Rainbow Feet. The swelling has gone down a ton. Its been about a week since I fell. Its still tender and I still wince when I hit an uncomfortable spot. I use one of the washclothes to rewrapp it, then wrapping my entire foot in the tank top since I feel like now is a good time for a walk.

I haul myself up with my stick, swing my bag on and look around at the cave. This has been a good home, but I've got to leave before someone spots me. Plus, my foot is really begining to stink up the close quarters. If I don't find another camp by afternoon, this is where I will be staying the night again.

I turn around quickly, biting my lip to stop myself from yelping out, because I twisted on the wrong foot. I close my eyes and begin to walk toward the water.