Post by laura25 on Jan 21, 2012 16:18:51 GMT -5
Still (part 3 of Mendacium)
My legs ached as I stood up to stretch them. An hour had passed before we dared to venture out of our small refuge. The sun was now beginning to set and the air was colder than before. I was glad to get out of the small disgusting whole we were crammed in, but fearful to step out into the open as well. My rescuer seemed to have too much courage as he immediately began to look for wood, all the while muttering to himself as if he were frustrated. Or perhaps he seemed worried. I was very concerned at this and walked over him to see what was up.
“Hey,” I whispered, “is everything okay, or is there something you’d like to tell me?”
“No.”
“No what?”
“No everything is not okay, and NO I would not like to tell you.”
So I was on a random island in the middle of nowhere when life did not make the tiniest bit of sense, and we were somehow strangely in the same place running for our lives, but he did not care to inform me about anything he knew.
“Oh okay then. That’s just great. That’s really great. When I have pieces of information that could possibly save your life or explain why in the world you are here, I will keep them from you too!”
He turned to me with a unexpected wave of panic and anger.
“Listen up. Listen up real good. I don’t know how you got here, but when I woke up this morning, I was surrounded by them.”
“What?”
“Oh stop playing stupid, you saw them. You ran from them. Anyways, I was panicked, and didn’t know what to do, so I laid there. I waited until they had their backs turned, there were only two of them you see, and I took a rock and...and...” Robert voice shook as fear took hold of him.
“You killed them”, I breathed.
He looked at me for a second as if I had proclaimed his death sentence, then turned away in anger.
“Look”, he hissed, “go over there and get some rest. They want us, understand? So you’ve got to sleep to run away when you have to. I’ll keep watch for a bit.” He pointed over by the hole we had hid in earlier where there was soft green grass to lay on. I obediently went over, stunned at what I just heard, and terrified for my life.
Even after an hour of laying in the soft grass, I could not stop thinking enough to let myself fall asleep. I was so confused. Where were we? How did we get here? Why both of us? I was angry at everything, and wanted answers. I looked over at him sitting beside the fire he had made for us. Despite how close he was to the heat of the fire, he was still shivering. I decided to walk over and keep him company.
“I’m sorry”, he whispered.
I just stared at him for a second, not really knowing exactly what to say. Confusion, and anger kept my brain from deciding what I should say back to him. We just sat there staring into the fire in silence.
“What is your name?” I asked at last.
“Robert Ferris.”
“Where where you before...here I guess?”
“I’m from Moscow Idaho. It’s pretty small. You?” he asked.
“I’ve never heard of Moscow, but um I’m from Cincinnati, Ohio. Not so small I guess.”
We sat in silence again. Robert was about to say something when all of a sudden a loud voice rang throughout the jungle. Robert and I scrambled to put out the fire and rush back into our small refuge. The voice continued into a chant or song. Drums echoed it’s cry, and fear rushed throughout my body. Robert and I sat closely together, not even courageous enough to draw a single breath. As the song progressed, I felt the earth shake beneath me. It sounded as if, it was a song of grief. The singer’s notes where full of meaning, and there was a certain feeling that you got when you heard it. You felt as if each note carried a heavy weight that was dropped on every single part of the jungle. Fear came over me and I turned to Robert. He whispered the same words that had been on my mind all day,“Where are we?”
I buried my face in Robert’s shoulder in fear, not caring what he thought of me. I could feel him shake, and knew he was terrified as well. For me it was the idea of not knowing who had been chasing me, or where I was. But for him, it was the idea that this song seemed to be mourning the lives that Robert had taken. The idea that this song, for Robert, may as well have been a death sentence.
Read more: bctcwriters.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=fiction&thread=104&page=1#ixzz1k87KUb89
My legs ached as I stood up to stretch them. An hour had passed before we dared to venture out of our small refuge. The sun was now beginning to set and the air was colder than before. I was glad to get out of the small disgusting whole we were crammed in, but fearful to step out into the open as well. My rescuer seemed to have too much courage as he immediately began to look for wood, all the while muttering to himself as if he were frustrated. Or perhaps he seemed worried. I was very concerned at this and walked over him to see what was up.
“Hey,” I whispered, “is everything okay, or is there something you’d like to tell me?”
“No.”
“No what?”
“No everything is not okay, and NO I would not like to tell you.”
So I was on a random island in the middle of nowhere when life did not make the tiniest bit of sense, and we were somehow strangely in the same place running for our lives, but he did not care to inform me about anything he knew.
“Oh okay then. That’s just great. That’s really great. When I have pieces of information that could possibly save your life or explain why in the world you are here, I will keep them from you too!”
He turned to me with a unexpected wave of panic and anger.
“Listen up. Listen up real good. I don’t know how you got here, but when I woke up this morning, I was surrounded by them.”
“What?”
“Oh stop playing stupid, you saw them. You ran from them. Anyways, I was panicked, and didn’t know what to do, so I laid there. I waited until they had their backs turned, there were only two of them you see, and I took a rock and...and...” Robert voice shook as fear took hold of him.
“You killed them”, I breathed.
He looked at me for a second as if I had proclaimed his death sentence, then turned away in anger.
“Look”, he hissed, “go over there and get some rest. They want us, understand? So you’ve got to sleep to run away when you have to. I’ll keep watch for a bit.” He pointed over by the hole we had hid in earlier where there was soft green grass to lay on. I obediently went over, stunned at what I just heard, and terrified for my life.
Even after an hour of laying in the soft grass, I could not stop thinking enough to let myself fall asleep. I was so confused. Where were we? How did we get here? Why both of us? I was angry at everything, and wanted answers. I looked over at him sitting beside the fire he had made for us. Despite how close he was to the heat of the fire, he was still shivering. I decided to walk over and keep him company.
“I’m sorry”, he whispered.
I just stared at him for a second, not really knowing exactly what to say. Confusion, and anger kept my brain from deciding what I should say back to him. We just sat there staring into the fire in silence.
“What is your name?” I asked at last.
“Robert Ferris.”
“Where where you before...here I guess?”
“I’m from Moscow Idaho. It’s pretty small. You?” he asked.
“I’ve never heard of Moscow, but um I’m from Cincinnati, Ohio. Not so small I guess.”
We sat in silence again. Robert was about to say something when all of a sudden a loud voice rang throughout the jungle. Robert and I scrambled to put out the fire and rush back into our small refuge. The voice continued into a chant or song. Drums echoed it’s cry, and fear rushed throughout my body. Robert and I sat closely together, not even courageous enough to draw a single breath. As the song progressed, I felt the earth shake beneath me. It sounded as if, it was a song of grief. The singer’s notes where full of meaning, and there was a certain feeling that you got when you heard it. You felt as if each note carried a heavy weight that was dropped on every single part of the jungle. Fear came over me and I turned to Robert. He whispered the same words that had been on my mind all day,“Where are we?”
I buried my face in Robert’s shoulder in fear, not caring what he thought of me. I could feel him shake, and knew he was terrified as well. For me it was the idea of not knowing who had been chasing me, or where I was. But for him, it was the idea that this song seemed to be mourning the lives that Robert had taken. The idea that this song, for Robert, may as well have been a death sentence.
Read more: bctcwriters.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=fiction&thread=104&page=1#ixzz1k87KUb89