Page 24 of While They Watch

Right when I think I can’t get more overwhelmed, my eyes lower to a stump sitting in front of what used to be a fire pit and sitting on it is another stick figure but this one is different from the others; it's bigger. I walk the few steps over to it and pick it up. This one has hair but not fake, doll hair. It looks human. Automatically I reach up and touch mine. It looks just like my hair. I hold my breath as I hold the stick figure next to my hair and confirm it’s the exact same color and texture.

My breath comes in gasps as I rip my beanie off and run my fingers through my hair, desperate to figure out if any is missing. It doesn’t feel like it and without a mirror it will be impossible to know for sure. I lean down, grab the doll and throw it as hard as I can. Anger thrums through my body causing me to feel my heartbeat in my head, my feet, in every part of my body. Everything starts to spin, slowly at first and then so fast that I fall over. My vision blurs as the air coming in and out of my lungs is nothing but tiny, staccato gasps. I can’t get hold of any of it. I only feel the sensations growing as I shrug the backpack off my shoulders and start frantically unzipping my jacket. I struggle with the buttons on my flannel, feeling desperate to get the cold air on my skin.

As the breeze blows across my chest, the change in temperature is jarring enough to distract and ground me. My mind clears enough that I remember to focus. Focus on my hands, squeeze them closed. Open and close them, tap each of my fingers together and keep repeating the cycle until my breathing calms. Slowly I feel the cloud of panic clearing from my mind. I feel myself in my body once again. The small amount of sweat on my skin has chilled and I feel the cold seeping into my bones. I refasten my buttons and zip my jacket closed as I quickly start to shiver.

It’s too early in the day to already be losing it this bad. The last thing I need to do is start stressing myself out but the thought that I have wasted precious minutes makes me want to crawl back into the tent and go to sleep. It’s a selfish thought and not an option. I need to hurry. I pull myself together enough to stand up and gather my things. I stop and take a few deep breaths, through my nose and my mouth. “I can do this,” I say to myself and whoever else is listening. I’m not completely sure which way to go, so I take my best guess and point myself in the direction I think I saw the lights last night. Just put one foot in front of the other. That’s all it takes. I do my best to sneak around all the stick people, not wanting to step on any of them, although I know it doesn’t really matter. They aren’t real.

_____

The next couple hours are calm and even kind of peaceful. I think I flushed the pent up anxiety and now am able to sink into random thoughts and not be hyper-focused on this grim reality. I think about getting back to Luke, going home, and forgetting any of this ever happened. I think about my parents, how I need to make it home for them. They need me. My thoughts cycle through my childhood. My dad chasing me at the playground, my mom letting me help her make cookies, both always tucking me in at night. They kissed me goodnight every night of my childhood, never even leaving me with grandparents to go out of town. I never went to a sleepover at a friend's house. They were… are... always there.

Now, I wonder if I’ve been a good enough daughter. It's something that haunts me even if it shouldn’t. Kids aren’t supposed to be the rock for their parents, but dads are supposed to live long enough to walk their daughters down the aisle. Life isn’t fair. A tear slides down my cheek and as it falls and hits my hand, I’m snapped back to reality. I need water.

I need to pay attention. I only have a few sips left, and I can’t afford to miss a chance to find more. I walk at a steady pace even as my legs feel heavy and my stomach sits empty. It’s making horrible sounds. There isn’t anything I can do for my exhaustion, but I did stash another one of Luke’s disgusting, bland granola bars in my pocket. He likes this brand because they’re “clean energy” but from my perspective, there isn’t much to like. I would kill for a heavily processed chocolate chip, chocolate dipped, granola bar and all the “dirty energy” it would provide, whatever any of that means. I smile to myself at a memory of Luke looking disgusted while watching me rip open a box of the chocolate granola bars while still at the grocery store and devouring two in a row. I softly chuckle out loud as the memory continues. It feels like yesterday that I was chasing him down the aisles trying to force him to take a bite. Just as fast as the thought of Luke cheers me, it then forms a pit of loneliness and sadness when I remember where he is now. Focus, Hanna. I can help him.

_____

I hear a small splash, stopping dead in my tracks. When I look down, I see that I’ve stumbled into a small stream. So small, that you can just barely hear the trickling of the water. Excitement floods into me as I watch it flowing underneath me. I follow it but it doesn’t go very far before filling up a small pond which is really more of a big puddle.

I set down my backpack before kneeling to get a closer look. It’s a little murky at the bottom but the water at the top looks clear. I skim my fingers along the surface to test this when suddenly all kinds of movement erupts. Hundreds of tadpoles are darting back and forth. There are so many now that I can’t see through the water. A frog jumps out and lands in front of me, startling me and giving me what I can only describe as a withering stare. “Hi,” I say to it and smile a little. A dozen more frogs leap out of the water, landing right in front of me causing me to fall onto my ass. Their sudden appearance makes me nervous. I sit and watch them, waiting to see what they’re going to do. They’re all sitting in a line, staring at me and croaking loudly.

This makes me wonder if the water is actually safe to drink. I don’t know anything about frogs or if drinking water they live in would be bad. I decide it's probably best to leave this section of the water alone. I know enough from survival shows that when water is flowing it’s filtering itself and I’ll risk that over drinking my own pee. That’s an emergency move I’m hoping to avoid. I pick up my things and walk back up the stream a few steps, wanting to get away from the frog’s prying eyes. After setting my stuff to the side, I get on my hands and knees and drink straight from the stream. It's the coldest, freshest water I’ve ever had. It tastes amazing. Which is probably what every person ever has said before contracting some sort of horrible parasite, but it’s a risk I not only have to take, but am happy to take.

After filling my belly up with the crisp water, I sit back and pull the backpack and sleeping bag over to me. I unzip the sleeping bag all the way, draping it over my shoulders before grabbing one of Luke’s freeze-dried meals. I know I probably should wait since I just had the granola bar but my stomach is protesting that sensible move and I decide to take this opportunity while I’m happy, seemingly safe and comfortable. I don’t have any way to heat the water, so I opt to eat it just as it is, straight out of the bag. It’s not as disappointing as you would think, especially when you’re starving. I eat the whole thing fast before wrapping my makeshift blanket tighter around me, wanting to take a little time to warm up.

I close my eyes and let the sun shining through the trees warm my face. It’s the most amazing sensation I’ve had in days. It makes me feel alive, like I can forget every bad thing that’s happened. It’s surreal that just hours ago I was in the middle of a panic attack and now I’m sitting here with an almost full belly, quenched thirst and a warm body.

As I gaze around the forest surrounding me, I think it feels peaceful today. I momentarily wonder why, but quickly shoo away the thought. I don’t want to jinx it, not that I believe in all that, but I’m not taking any chances. As I sit in this comfortable moment, I can’t help but wonder if my mind has been playing tricks on me this entire time? Like when I was a child. How can these trees, which are covered in leaves like a sunset and this air which is filled with sparkling sunbeams and the very soft trickle of water in my ears, be the same setting that has been so dark and menacing? It doesn’t feel like the same nightmare I’ve been living. As I look around it doesn’t make sense but something inside me tells me to enjoy it, because it could all change at any moment. Maybe this is a dream inside a nightmare and when I wake up, I’ll be surrounded by the true chaos.

Trying again to shut out these unhelpful thoughts, I lay back in the grass and before I know it, my eyes are closing and I can’t stop them. I simply don’t want to. This time I let myself sink into a dream.

The smell of decay is everywhere. It’s so strong I want to hold my breath, but I don’t. My mind isn’t my own but this time, somehow, I’m more aware of it. I’m something else, seeing through eyes that aren’t mine. I’m watching myself. This version of me is stumbling through the trees. I look scared. But the me that is dreaming, I’m not scared. I’m excited, I feel adrenaline pumping in my veins. Animal instinct that isn’t mine, fury that isn’t mine. I feel something… someone… trying to break further into my mind. To take over. It wants my body. I can’t let it. I won’t.

My eyes flutter open and as I lay and wait for the dream to float away, it doesn't. I can remember every feeling, every thought and I’m not afraid. I know in my gut that these are not true dreams or at least not ones that have been put there only by my subconscious. I also know in my gut that my mind is getting stronger–I’m taking back control of these dreams the further away I get. It doesn’t comfort me though. Something is searching for me. It’s trying to learn something.

I need to get moving; that nap was not part of the plan and has come with a price. I lost valuable daylight. I’m relieved to see that the sun is still high in the sky, so I have a few hours to hopefully find my way out.

I sit up, letting the sleeping bag fall around me before using my hand to push myself up. My body is feeling extra stiff and sore, which distracts me before I feel the ground shifting under my hand. It’s very slight, almost vibrating. When I look down at my hand, all I can see are crumpled, broken leaves but as I focus on them I can see them moving ever so slightly. I turn the rest of the way, so I’m facing them before brushing the leaves away. I scream and lurch backward. Underneath the leaves are hundreds of maggots and beetles. They are crawling and writhing on what’s left of a deer skull. Huge chunks of its flesh have already been cleaned down to the bone; the actual meat of the animal is barely visible underneath the moving bodies. I was sleeping right next to this. Literally inches from it. The smell coming off it now that it’s uncovered takes my breath away. I don’t understand how I didn’t notice this. Have I gotten so used to the constant stench of rot?

The thought sickens me enough that I crawl a few feet away and throw up every bit of water and food I had in me. My throat feels raw. I want to take a drink of water to wash the bitter taste from my mouth, but the thought of ingesting anything else turns my stomach more. Once I’ve thrown up everything but the last bits of bile, I stand up and wobble over to my bag and grab my water bottle.

Once I’m back at the small stream I kneel down and attempt to fill the bottle up the best that I can. I’ll need water later, especially now that I’ve purged everything I drank. Tipping the water bottle to the side works but only slightly. I can only get it filled partially before it flows back out. After a few tries, I give up on that technique and decide to set the water bottle on the ground and use my hands to scoop and dump the water in. This works a little bit better, but the downside is that my hands are picking up dirt and debris with every scoop. Once I get it almost filled and feel content, I decide not to waste any more time. I grab my things, avoiding eye contact with the deer skull and step over the water, back into the unknown. As I look up to the sky, the sun is officially on its way back down.

Chapter Twenty-One

The day had been going so well, the morning was beautiful and even though I was sore I felt like I was moving fast. As the day keeps going though, it becomes clear that I’ll be spending another night in the forest. The thought fills my stomach with dread, but the sun is already halfway down, so I don’t think I’ll have a choice. The shadows are starting to become longer and more dramatic, and any peace I was feeling throughout the day is almost gone. It’s only made worse by the fact that I haven’t been able to get rid of the smell from the deer’s skull. If anything, the smell has grown in potency, like I’m walking into a rotting part of the woods.

As I’m losing myself in thoughts of despair and fear of another horrible night, I don’t notice that I’ve taken a couple steps into an empty clearing. When I look up, the first thing I see is standing in the middle of this huge empty area. It is a giant human-shaped effigy. I trip over my next step, not expecting to have been met with something this unusual. What is this? I need to get closer so I can get a better look. As I slowly walk into the open space, I notice the lack of trees. It’s like someone came in and cleared it out. The further I walk the more I see it’s really just a big patch of dirt with some dead or dying grass scattered around. I look back up toward the figure, my mind having a hard time processing what it is. It has humungous antlers that look like they are disappearing into the light fog hovering high up in the air. I’m too far away to make out the details but from here it looks to have been built with an untold number of different branches. They have been twisted and sculpted into this otherworldly form.

I need to see it. I feel in my bones that someone has put this here for me to find. Maybe it’s another sign. Just for me. I move faster, almost running toward it, steps I don’t feel in control of. The closer I get the more it towers over me and I’m able to pick up on more details. Sections of its body look to be covered in a layer of moss and mushrooms. Nature itself is fighting for a piece to call its own. It’s actually quite beautiful.

I start to feel weird. My stomach is twisting and my head pounds in a painful rhythm, but I can hardly focus on the sensations. I’m transfixed by its face which doesn’t have a mouth, only two gaping holes left in place for the eyes. It looks like it’s staring down at me. Fear and intrigue are fighting for dominance as I move so close I can reach out and touch it. I see something stuck between two of the branches; I warily reach to pick it out. It doesn't come out but moves enough that I’m able to see that it’s a tooth. I pull my hand away with a full body shiver.

When I look back at the twisted statue, I see clearly now there are bones and teeth stuck between all the branches and twigs. I want to convince myself that they belong to animals, but I already know it’s not true.

As I move around, I see a fist-sized hole in the side of the structure. Once I get in front of it, a slight glint catches my eye. I don’t know what comes over me, but I reach my hand inside. It barely fits, but I squeeze my fingers together so I can force my hand in further. The tips of my fingers are just barely able to grab onto what feels like some sort of small chain. I slowly pull out a small, gold necklace and my eyes widen and my breath catches. As clear as day, the heart locket with the cursive M is staring back at me. The same one I carefully placed in the Bible and put in my own bag. My mind can't make sense of it. How can this be here? keeps repeating in my broken mind. I drop it in disgust, not wanting to hold something the creatures have touched.

Before I have time to understand what’s happening, a scream echoes through the clearing. “Haaaaaanna!” It’s long and drawn out. Every time I hear these noises, they sound less human.