Survival

   Fire blurred my vision every single time I leaned over my right leg to run. It hurt like nothing else had ever hurt me, but I had no choice. Running required me to be agile, not minding what was happening with the rest of my body. Those legs that had carried me around all my life had to work at the top of their game, never minding anything else. I felt the taste of iron in my mouth and my mind seemed to leave my body for a couple of moments, but somehow I moved on through the night, like a wraith between rocks and chopped trees.

 When light finally broke the darkness of the night, there was not much to look at anyway. The fields had been almost carbonized and smoke filled every single corner of the once green and lush environment. I stopped and tried to hear the world around me. My ears were buzzing and my head was turning like crazy but I tried anyway but I couldn’t hear a thing. It was then when I noticed that my leg was in a horrible state, a large part opened and spilling blood all over. However, the pain was not as bad as it was supposed to be.

 I tasted iron again and realized I had bitten my tongue while running. There was blood on my head too but I didn’t touch myself to know where it was coming from. It was urgent to find a place to get the proper help I need because, after all that had happened, I was still alive. They had sent troops after me, I had been strapped to a torture table for days and yet there I was, in the middle of a field that they had apparently abandoned. I started walking once more, trying to find a proper exit to that horrible place.

 I might have wondered through the smoke for several hours. I knew it was still day because there was light but it was very hard to see where the Sun was exactly. I tried to identify it a couple of times but it was absolutely useless. So I moved on, walking through the scorched plains, hoping to find a place to rest for a while. I have to confess I never thought of anyone else during that time, I had only myself in mind. What would I be good for if I died? The only way to help others was if I made it alive to the other side.

 When light began to wane, I found the first untouched trees that I had seen in several days, maybe more. I had no idea how much time had passed since everything had started. But there they were, smelling like smoke, with the tips of their leaves burned, but alive nevertheless. I walked into the forest, with a frankly good mood. No one would enter the forest to only look for me. There was a lot more to do in the world than to go after one person that got away. Maybe they thought nature, or what remained of it, would finish the job and make my bones be food for the ground.

 In the dark, I eventually found something of use. It was a small village, made of about a dozen little houses. It looked like one of those places were people gather when they expect to be mining for something, one of those temporal towns that were built back in the day, when retrieving the remaining minerals was of outmost importance for the world. Now, all those miners and their families worked in the big factories in the cities. The old villages had been left to rot under the sun and the rain and everything else.

 Plants had overrun the place, flowers growing everywhere. The smoke around there was much less dense. I was able to breathe a little bit easier. I walked around and eventually found the little hut that had worked as the doctor’s office. Maybe they hadn’t been able to attract a proper doctor to that remote place, only a nurse or maybe someone that came once every two or three weeks to help as much as they could. As I expected, there wasn’t a lot to use around there but almost nothing was better than nothing at all.

 I cured my wounds with whatever there was around and I was lucky enough to discover a linen closet filled with clean sheets and other fabrics. I cut a large one in order to use as bandages for my wounds. My body felt a little better, especially when I lay down in a cot. There was only the light of the moon, which happened to be almost getting to its fullest state. The beautiful pearl color of its surface, visible past the sheet of smoke, made me think of the past, of simpler times that I had been lucky enough to live.

 I fell asleep, dreaming about things that I remembered but mostly about things I had no idea how to understand. It was obvious that I had begun to forget things. Their attempts to make me less of a human had actually worked, as I didn’t feel like my old self anymore. My dream did not make any sense and everyone in it, or most of them at least, felt as a fabrication of my mind or maybe even someone else’s. It was so disturbing, that I woke up very suddenly, sweating profusely and damning my humanity.

 I realized I had slept much more than I had thought. It was morning already and the sound of birds reached me. For a moment, it seemed very normal. But then I realized there was no way. The plain had been destroyed or at least most of it. It was improbable that wildlife would have found a way to survive the destruction of the war and all other things that had happened. I stood up and went running outside, realizing I was not dreaming at all. There was a bird singing somewhere close, and I wanted to see it. I wanted to remember what a bird looked like, one that was real.

 I walked, slowly, out of the smoky cloud that had covered me for hours, maybe even more time. I seemed to be walking on the edge of the forest. The bird was chirping away, probably flying away slowly. I eventually arrived to a place where the trees began to be shorter and there were more rocks and reddish soil. It was then when I saw the little bird making the noise. It was small, brown in color and a little bit puffy. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was happy and talented and free. That was the most important: free.

 I wanted to go closer, to touch him, at least for a moment. But another sound cut me off from desire. The bird seemed to notice it too because it suddenly stopped singing. It stayed on its branch, silently staring right into a group of trees. Then, suddenly and very fast, a bullet rushed through the air and blew up the bird into oblivion. I saw its feathers fall slowly to the ground. I saw beauty being destroyed just because it was there. I felt enraged but also very much confused. I really didn’t like that at all.

 A group of two men and a woman came from the trees. I had walked back a bit just before, hiding behind the thickest tree I had been able to find. I trembled when I realized who they were: Ravagers. They were mercenaries that captured rebels in order to surrender them in exchange for money or food. Sometimes even more ammo for their guns. They didn’t care at all for the rights of others to live or to think differently. That was all done a long time ago. They had sold their souls for a cheap price.

 The woman grabbed the bird from the ground and did something I only heard, because I couldn’t make myself watch any of it. I only heard the crackling of bones and then laughter. I knew of their sadistic ways, identical to those of the people in power. There was no real difference between them. They had all been complacent in what had happened in the country. In the world, even. I only waited for them to go and they eventually did, walking back into the trees, their voices unable to hurt my ears anymore.

 When I felt better, I decided to go back to the village and grab everything I could find that might be useful. I used an old rag to make a sort of bag and put everything I could inside. I put that ball of stuff almost at the end of a thick stick I had found in the forest, getting ready for my next move.

 That night, I decided to walk in the opposite direction of everything that I had seen the day before. They had been the ones to almost kill me. My legs and feet walked on, hoping to move away from everything that had happened. Nevertheless, deep down, I knew that wasn’t at all possible.

In the rain

-       - Whatever you may want to forget, I can help you…

   The voice seemed to come from deep beyond the rain and hail. Marina stood there, freezing but attentive of the voice she had heard. But she never heard it again. Instead, another voice seemed to be approaching, yelling something that she couldn’t understand. Then she saw a shadow that turned out to be her father. He had a large plastic covering him and yelled Marina to go with him. She doubted for a second but he helped her by taking her arm and running with her. They were followed by Anseon, Marina’s pet pig, who stopped every so often to check on mushrooms growing in the ground. About ten minutes later, they were inside their house, by the edge of the town.

 Marina went straight to her room, dripping water. She crossed her mother but didn’t say a word, only standing by the door to let Anseon in. She then removed her wet clothes and put them in a plastic bag that she would get downstairs some other time. She lay in her bed and covered her face. Marina could hear the voice again, as clearly as she had in the downpour. Who had talked to her? The woman, because it was a woman’s voice, had not revealed herself and Marina’s father probably scared her away.

 Anseon climbed on to the bed and Marina uncovered her eyes, caressing his pet and wondering what had really happened that night. She had only gone to the forest to pick up some berries for a desert, the ones she did every week, and suddenly a storm had formed and she had been trapped there, on the mud, between the hail, the rain and that strange voice from beyond. It may have been a forest spirit or maybe a wandering soul… Many people, including her grandfather, stated that the woods were haunted and that spending any time there after nightfall was, at very least, dangerous.

 Marina was distracted from her thoughts when her father came in, without even knocking. He knew very well she hated when he did that, only because the doorknob didn’t work. She then grabbed a book that she had left on her bedside table and pretended to read, although she didn’t even look at more than two words. Her father sat down on a small chair by her closet and asked her why she had left the house that day. Marina left the book aside and told him he knew well that she always cooked a pie or some desert for all the family. She knew the best berries grew in the forest and she had gone to grab some. Her father then asked why she didn’t have any of them with her when he found her and Marina explained she had dropped them when running from the storm.

Her father didn’t seem to believe her very much, especially because when he found her she had not been running or anything similar. But apparently he decided not to keep asking anything and just old her to go down for dinner. After putting on a sweater and caressing Anseon’s belly a little more, she went down and sat besides her mother. Her younger brother Mason was already eating, trying to cut his meat but failing awesomely at it. Marina realized she was not very hungry but tried to eat at least some bites. She knew her father was looking her every move, as if she was a dangerous criminal. Her parents started talking about the downpour.

 Spring had arrived, that much was true. But it never rained like that on this part of the world. They hoped it would soon end because the river downhill could overflow and that would be devastating for the little town. As both kids had class the next day, no parent said anything when Marina stood up and left her plate almost full. She went to her room and hugged Anseon. Marian then thought of the rain, the voice, his parents, of everything that had been going on in her life and then started to cry in silence. The pig appeared to be worried about her but she soon fell asleep. After all, she was very tired and needed the rest.

 However, the rain didn’t stop during the night. It hadn’t become stronger either. It just rained and rained, sometimes some hail falling, others only liquid water. Marina’s mother called the school and learned it had been closed permanently because of flooding. The school was located in the lowest part of the valley and, apparently, many volunteers were trying to make a barrier with sand bags in order to repel the water. Father had gone to work, as the factory did not close for rain or for anything else. Mother was attracted to the idea of helping the school but the children were too happy about not going to class that it would have been cruel to take them there anyway.

 Marina decided to spend the time writing. She had been reading a lot about poetry and thought she could give it a go but after an hour she realized it was much more difficult than what she had thought. Then, she decided to try drawing but that wasn’t much better either. Bored with the outcome of her attempts at being an artist, she decided to help her mother with lunch. They did a gorgeous steaming hot soup, with all kind of vegetables in it and pieces of chicken. They all needed something like that to warm up the bones; after all, the rain didn’t seem to recede in any way.

 After they had the soup, Marina decided to cook one of her pies. True, she had lost of the fruit she had picked the day before, but her mother still had some lemons and all the ingredients to make one. So she started cooking and realized the feeling she had when doing a pie was the one she would have want to have when writing a poem or drawing some scenery. It was that permanent bliss, that strange peace that sets in when one does what one likes. When she finally put it in the oven, she looked through the window and then she was sure she had seen an elderly woman outside. But after blinking and getting close to the window, she realized the woman was not there.

 Maybe it was because she had been inside the house for too long… She had started imagining things. After all, the day before, she never saw the face of the woman that had talk to her. Marina thought she was just too eager to have something special happening to her and that’s why she was imagining things. When the pie was done, she gave a warm slice to her brother and mother, along with some tea. Her dad arrived just when they sat down and she gave him a slice too. For the first time in a long while, they had a nice time as a family. There was no fight or no unusual tension. Her father told them about the flood down in the valley and how the factory had been closed earlier to also prevent flooding.

 They chatted for hours until night came and mother started heating up some soup for everyone. It was then, when Marina went to her room to look for her notebook, that she saw the woman again. From her bedroom window, she saw the old lady looking at the house, at her. She smiled when Marina looked at her. The girl pulled away from the window, breathing heavily. Apparently, she was the voice in the rain. It was two coincidental… What did she want? Why did she think Marina wanted to forget something? Or was it a trick to lure her into the forest.

 Marina then decided to wait for everyone to be asleep and then she would go outside, not minding the rain, and demand an answer from the woman. She waited patiently, distracted by her family during dinner. Somehow, her father was in a great mood, telling jokes and holding their mother’s hand often. Mason had spent all they making small clay characters and they all congratulated him because they were just great. Even Marina got to confess to her family how much she loved doing the deserts, cooking. She told them about that feeling, the kind that fills your heart when you do something that you love.

 Her parents encouraged her to keep learning all about it, about confectionary and cooking in general. They knew she could be great as all her creations were just delicious. Their support almost made her cry and it was Anseon asking for food that distracted her and made them all laugh. After some time, they decided it was time to go to bed and see how the next day was going to be like. Marina volunteered to wash the dishes and her father stayed at the dining table trying to fix a clock that hadn’t worked in many months. When she finished, she looked through the window and then to her father, who was immersed in the fixing of the clock.

 Marina decided to sit at his side at the table and just speak to him. She did so, without stopping. She told him about how she was going to go to the forest again, following and old woman she had seen her earlier that day. She told him she felt that woman had something to say or to do and she needed to find out about it.

 Her father turned to her, smiling. This confused Marina. When he started talking, it was in a very soft voice, almost melancholic. He explained that woman had been seen often in the last few years. The forest was haunted, indeed. By a woman that had thought that the best way to deal with thing was forgetting about them if they hurt or if they're scary. That woman, he explained, was a rumored witch, an ancestor of theirs. He advised Marina not to acknowledge her but never to forget about her because she represented that which they should never do, which is ignoring problems. He then told his daughter to bed and rest as the next day they would be helping people in town. She smiled, kissed him on the cheek and went upstairs with Anseon to sleep, a dreamless sleep.