Jack, Week 5

Day broke over the forest. The trees swam among a flood of sensation, with the smell of the sea drifting through the wood, carried on flower petals as they were blown in by the rapid gale. Frogs croaked, and with each croak erupted thousands of tiny crickets whose symphony clashed with the croaking of the quartet of frogs that swelled and deflated in tune with the gusting gale. Jack lie on his back and consciousness soon came to him, and with it all of the sights and sounds of the forest. The sun vomited colors in the sky and Jack felt his eyes struggling to adjust. The heat was unbearable.

Night fell. The forest was silent and the sky dark. Jack vomited. He felt sweat roll down his body in a vain attempt to cool him down. In the dark there was nothing to see, so Jack tried to sleep. Whether what he experienced would be better called sleep or unconsciousness he did not know, but the night passed quickly by his reckoning.

Day broke. The sky above was calm today. The frogs and crickets were in silence, not unison or clash. The sea scent was absent and no petals filled the air. Jack sat up for the first time in over a day, and vomited again. He needed to find food and medicine to survive. Did he want to?

He walked a few miles, probably in circles. He found some food but no medicine. He tried to read the book he had found the week previous, but found the letters danced too much, and when they were still, the words made him thirst. He searched for water, and found a small stream. He followed it for some time, doing his best to keep his mind coherent.

Night fell. Jack slept, drenched still in sweat. The heat remained unbearable, but he was so near death that sleep came easily to him, even with the heat. The fears that had kept him awake in the city had faded to barely a whisper in the back of his mind, drowned out by the screams of anguish and panting of thirst.

Day broke. Night fell. Day broke. Night fell.

It was a miserable existence, and Jack was losing the will to carry on. Nobody would know he died. Nobody would care. Those who would had perished long ago. He could join them. He could be free from this earth’s dreadful clutches. He could be bathed in the bliss of silence, and allow the chill of death to cleanse the heat that afflicted his body.

Day broke. Night fell. Day broke. Night fell. Day broke.

Yes. Why continue? What was left for him? He reached in his pack for his sister’s locket. He rummaged. He rummaged. He did not find.

Yes. He was sure now.

Night fell.