My eyes fluttered open.
I am cold.
The ground beneath me is wet, and definitely not my bed.
Where am I...
I look around, squinting, not yet adjusted to the light. All I see, is fields going on for what could only be miles and miles.
The grass is covered with drops of morning dew, becoming so heavy on the grass that the blades bend to the side.
I roll away from where I was laid on the ground.
There is an indent in the grass in the shape of my body. It almost looks like an outline of a person at a murder scene. Hopefully I will not end up as a chalk outline.
As I lay on my back, awake with my thoughts...the panic starts to kick in.
How did I get here? I wonder.
Who brought me here?
Where am I...?
All quite sensible wonderments if I do say so myself, based on the state I am in.
I start to try to stand up, but a bullet of pain shoots through my leg, rendering my attempts to get some idea of where I am useless.
I turn my head to inspect my leg, and that is when I see the gash.
My blue jeans are caked with dried blood and dirt. I might as well be dead for that is what I will soon be.
YOU ARE READING
Stranded
Short StoryCasey of age 14 wakes up one morning, and realizes she has no idea where she is. She must find her way back to civilization...before it is too late.
