THE BLAME

Guilt.

The decaying wood had shards poking the air around the small yet noticeable object. The once vibrant pigment guiding the way is dry and splintered from the years of exposure to the elements. Alongside the gravel roads, unique indigenous South African vegetation is found such as the dwarf avocado, yellowwood tree, confetti bushes, and fynbos.

The crossroad leaves Mirah bewildered as to which turn to take. 

They promised they would return for her, having left her as a beacon to know where they made a choice, but they still haven't returned.

Would they have turned around by now if it was the wrong road? 

She placed the pointer back where she had found it, deciding to take the same road her group had took. The sand between the gravel puffed into small clouds of dust as her boots kicked the dwarfy pebbles. This trail was significantly steep in comparison to the other. She walked slowly, uncomfortable and dirty from the slumber outside. She walked for about half an hour until the grit became green. Mirah rolled her jean's sleeves back down, in case any poisonous creatures lurked through the grass.

The first few patches of turfgrass soon stretched to be fields of tall grass. Her thoughts wandered to think what secrets this greenery held, covering the ground as though it may never be found. She was thinking about how some people can keep their word and others not, the way only some lots carry great amounts of grasses and others as empty as promises can be.

Her thoughts went to waste when the green engulfed her fragile foot, capturing it inside a hidden hole, momentarily, a yelp of pain reached the air. She carefully removed her ankle, as to not injure it any further. The pain felt cold and compressed, the skin puffing up and turning blue. She had sprained her right ankle.

                                                                                            ***

The night before...

With only a faded light making his vision clear of the entrance gates, he sat on a wooden hedge with his elbows resting on top of his knees and his chin on top of his folded hands. Asher's eyes dark and his eyebrows frowned, his concern for Mirah increased. 

It's already past eight; they aren't supposed to take this long.

It was 22:18 when he heard chattering and a relieving gush of "Guys, look!" He immediately stood up, looking even more solicitous. He recognized them as apart of Mirah's night walking group, consequently he promptly stood up.

He cautiously heightened himself by peeking over the heads of his approaching peers. The one person he scouted for didn't appear from out the night. Her golden locks were nowhere to be found. Thus he hastened out the terrain into the tenebrosity, an exact but darker image of him falling to the ground, illuminated by the faint orange bulb.

"Mirah!" Asher bawled the way a lion does to its cubs. He took a step forward, squinting his eyes to peer through the thickening fog. Without any hesitation, he turned around and started looking in every place he possibly could. His agitation increased as he came up without any sign of the girl he loves. This was when he turned toward the campfire, informing everybody of her absence, but instead of believing him, they chose to ignore his statement and waste more time looking for her.