Average or Worse

Chapter Three

Crashing waves pounded against the grainy sand. As the waves furiously struck the shore it hemorrhaged litter. 

The world was a disgusting place. What was once considered the town jewel looked like a giant blue dumpster. I couldn’t stand to be in nature, it was too much for me. It made we want to scream from repugnance. Frantically searching for an outlet, somewhere to breathe. Somewhere with trees, somewhere with other people. Somewhere with people who don’t want to shoot me or take my house. The last piece of proof that my parents existed, where my sister sends her letters.

Luckily, I had taken my sisters letters, not to read them, or to care; but to tell her to stop sending them because if she couldn’t talk to me face to face I didn’t want to talk to her again.

                                                                                                ~

Walking for what felt like miles I found it. The last forest in California. Maybe it’s just a myth, but for some reason I believe it. It seems strange to be looking for it, but I remember taking a trip here for school. It’s a huge place, the grand forest of redwoods. I remember about a half a mile down the road, there was storage unit company. I figured I could probably steer clear of trouble there for a while.

The contents of my bag were not very useful. Cans of corn and the opener, a thick jacket, and an old lighter from one time me and my sister tried smocking. It wasn’t too bad, the jacket was huge, probably my dad’s, I could use it as a sleeping bag too but it most likely won’t cover my feet. I could start a fire to keep myself warm with the lighter and obviously the cans provided me with some food.

I started to roll up the jacket to put in the bag when I heard the faintest crunching sounds of leaves. Somebody was approaching me. They were trying very hard not to make a sound. So that eliminated some rapper because why should they try and be quiet, they’re the ones with guns. I couldn’t think of who else it could be. Maybe someone who used to work here and figured it would be a good shelter. I don’t mind sharing room, as long is the person isn’t all irrational. And certainly not if they want to talk.

Then I realized that I was being completely mute, causing the individual to believe I’m not here. I could tell they were coming my way.

I saw two green things shine in the darkness of the heavily spread foliage surrounding my self-claimed storage compartment. Then I saw long strand of rope like hair messily wrapped into a greasy bun, and surely when I looked down I saw the skirt. So it was a girl. As soon as she saw me she began to run away.

Woman are very rare to see wondering around in public, although I’m not sure you would call this public, but anywhere men are. I guess the thought of what I might do to her frightened her. If I was that lady I’d be running to. But I wanted to assure her, this very familiar looking female, that I wasn’t going to harm her.

If she wanted to sleep here, so be it! It’s not my place, I don’t care. And the moment I started running after her I understood that I didn’t care about her either. But for some reason I just needed her to stop running. Maybe it’s my complete state of isolation that leads me to the first none victimizing person I’ve seen in months.

We ran through the woods for seemed like hours she made a sharp turn left and then I lost her. She just disappeared into thin air. Gone…

I headed back towards storage area, just now noticing I had forgotten my can opener at the booth, what a loss it would have been. As I stuffed the metal tool down into my backpack I realized there was a camera in there.

Not just any camera, the one my mom wanted to sell after grandpa passed back when I was a kid. The camera was notorious in the family for taking odd pictures. It was the kind that shoots Polaroid style and as soon as you press the button it prints it out.