Poison

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The wind wraps around my body, causing me to shiver. The rain falls heavily. The grotesque odour of burning human bodies fills my nostrils. In response, bile raises in my throat. Someone is dying. I need to help them. Someone, here in the forest is losing their life to the rain. It may be someone that I know. I pull the extra layers of protection over my body. My skin that was previously exposed bites painfully. I am standing out the front of the hut. I will find that person. I will find them and I will save them.

"I'm going to help them" I call into the hut. There is no reply. They probably cannot hear me. They don't even know that I've just returned.

I walk towards the dead forest. The leaves that may have been able to help me, by providing shelter, are no longer here. They have not been here for a decade now. Kia opens the door to the hut and calls to me. I do not hear her the first time. She calls again, louder with desperation.

"It's mum! She's in the rain" Kia is screeching. "She went to find food! She hasn't come back!" Kia falls to the floor sobbing, it was difficult to understand her words. The realisation dawns on me. Mum had gone looking for food in the forest. It had started raining. She had not come back.

She was dying in the rain.

I start to run. The acidic odour of burning bodies leads my way. I feel so desperate. So helpless. I run. I scan. I run. I cannot see her. WHERE IS SHE? The forest feels empty, any of the remaining habitants have hidden away from the rain. The sky is alight with unnatural colours. It rains down heavier. Fear increases my heart rate, I breathe faster. The forest feels humid, the air poisoned with the reeking odour of a burning body.

"Mum!" I shout desperately. She can't leave us. She can't leave her children. "Mum! Where are you? My throat feels sore and it is difficult to shout, my sounds leave huskily and strained.

I run towards a clearing of trees. There is a rabbit, its dead body rolled into a ball, slightly degraded by the rain. The handle of a knife protrudes from the mass of fur. Frantically, I scan my surroundings.

I see my mother. She lies on the forest floor. Blisters cover her exposed skin. Gaping wounds are forming on her arms, her face, her cheeks. She is unconscious .Anxiety seeps through me. I need to help her. She cannot die!

Panic contaminates me. I stop. I am frozen. I have lost any ability to move. I shriek in frustration. But no sound leaves my mouth. I attempt to move myself, I try to force my arms to change their resisting position. I try to make my feet move towards her dying body.

I cannot move. I cannot speak. I cannot help her.

I watch as she dies. Scorching tears tumble down my cheeks. I watch as her body is slowly disintegrates. I watch until nothing remains.

Mike awoke suddenly. He shook his head with haste to rid the images of his nightmare. However they refused to leave entirely. The image his mother dying before him was slightly tainted and less distinguishable. But it was still there. Every night he watched a replay of the same scene. Every night he was forced to remember that he was too frozen with fear stop his mother from being taken by the rain. In order to take a different direction with his thoughts, he observed his surroundings. Mike had not been able to admire his new bedroom the night before. It was too dark and he too tired.

Although the walls were of a pasty, peachy colour they still contributed to the invitingly warm appearance of the room. Across from Mike was Jason's bed. It was empty; all that lay in his place was a crumpled blanket. Bright morning light entered through the window despite the obstruction of dirt and grime that lay on it. The room was simple and cosy. A set of oak drawers sat in the corner of the room. It was bizarre, but this one piece of furniture made Mike feel as though he was home.