Hunting You, Hunting Me (Watty Awards 2012)

Chapter 4

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All Rights Reserved © 2012

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Chapter 4

The chirping birds awaken me.  I attempt to open my eyes but fail. I bring my fingers to my lids and start to pick off the crust that is binding them shut. My eyes are tired and sore from the tears that I must have shed last night. Sunlight streams into the hollow through the underbrush that hides me. I sit still trying to listen for sounds and re-assess my situation. It seems that I am alone and have survived the night. I let out the breath that I have unconsciously been holding.

Gently parting the leaves, I take a peek. The forest almost looks beautiful and enchanting, such a stark difference from the night. My first thought is that the forest is thick and dense. Good enough to hide me, but also good enough to hide them.

I look up into the trees to make sure that no one is sitting up on the branches, rifle pointed at me.  A sad smile appears on my face as I think of my favorite book, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. If only I was as resourceful and talented as Katniss Everdeen and if only I had my own Peeta Mellark looking out for me, I would totally kick some butt. 

I sigh dramatically as I crawl out of the hollow and stretch my body. Needless to say, I hurt everywhere. I have a few scrapes and bruises but nothing serious. The major pains come from being curled up into a small space for so long. I shake out the crinks and adjust my clothing.

I walk away from my hiding place and deeper into the woods trying to memorize my way back to hollow. How will I be able to tell one tree from another? I could mark my way by etching a sign on the trees but then the hunters would see it too. I find a spot behind a tree and crouch down to empty my bladder. I cover it up with leaves and mud after I am done.

 I am not hungry but realize that after the adrenaline gets out of my system I will need to eat and drink. I make my way back to the hollow, searching for edible plants and berries. Who am I kidding? Would I even know what they look like? Sure I went camping with my parents, but we always had a cooler full of food.

The sun has warmed the air nicely and I am starting to sweat a little. This is typical of the weather here in the summer. The days are warm but the nights are cooler. Especially if you are dressed in a knee length, short sleeved dress. Thankful that the sun is out, I walk purposefully placing my feet only on moss, leaves and other natural debris.

Feeling thirsty, I make it a priority to search for a water source, along with staying alive, that is. What with my crying last night and the sweating, and of course emptying my bladder, I will be in need of water very soon.

Deciding to begin my search for water, I head back to the hollow to get my bearings. But of course, the bad luck that has befallen me is still in place. Because just as I am reaching the hollow, I hear twigs snapping, followed by leaves crunching. 

Shit! I quietly jump into the under brush and crawl back into the hollow. I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut.

If I can’t see them, they can’t see me, right?

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