I woke up, and the first thing I felt was a pain in my back. Sleeping on the bare ground wasn't the most rewarding thing to do. The morning chill was getting to my bones, and I shrank back, trying to keep warm, and reality was slowly coming back to me. I sat up, leaning against the tree trunk, and thoughts immediately flooded into my head. Mother. Where is she? How is she? Is she alive? Ever since I was a child, she'd taken care of me, always finding ways to survive, even in the most dire of situations. She was everything to me.
I never asked her about her father. We were alone, and that became the norm. Our little wooden house, cramped and humble, but close to home. I remember her feeding me chowder, boiled from incomprehensible ingredients, but delicious when I was hungry. I never understood where she got her money, how she earned it, but she always managed to survive and give me what little we had. I remember her giving me the last piece of bread, almost starving herself. But then, as a child, I didn't realize any of this. It was only now, sitting in the cold under that tree, that I began to realize how incredible she was.
I squirmed, wrapping my arms around myself as if trying to replicate her warm embrace. My mother's image appeared before my eyes: her face, her kind hands. Tears ran down my cheeks, and I couldn't stop them. I had a mother in my past life, too, but the war had taken her away like everything else. I couldn't even remember her voice now, as if the memories were covered in a cloudy veil, like an old mirror with the dusty patina of time on it. Maybe someday those images would come back to me, but for now they were just a blur.
I wiped my wet eyes, got to my feet, and decided to move on. The forest I'd run into last night seemed like something completely alien. It beckoned and frightened me at the same time with its pristine, wild beauty. The branches of the trees, tall as towers, intertwined overhead, creating a dense web through which the morning light barely penetrated. I didn't recognize the plants that grew here - strange shapes, unusual leaves. Some had red veins, others glistened as if covered in wax. Some of the birds, familiar at first glance, looked like mutants from nightmares: their feathers were brightly colored, and their cries echoed through the silence as if they were talking to each other.
I was scared. The forest lived, breathed. I walked, listening to every rustle. Birds, whose voices I couldn't identify, chirped somewhere in the distance. I kept walking, trying to be cautious, looking back every minute. My only thought: not to run into predators. Wolves? Or a semblance of them? The forest seemed ancient and endless, as if it hid a thousand secrets and dangers.
I strained my hearing, hoping to hear the sound of running water. The river was what I needed. But the forest didn't give up its secrets so easily. The water was elusive, like everything else in this place. Hunger was slowly building, and I realized that soon I would have to search for sustenance. My mind reeled with anxious thoughts of my mother, but now I was more concerned about my stomach, which was a painful reminder of itself.
I found a straight, thick branch that could serve as a weapon if the need arose. I picked up a stone that was lying nearby and tried to chip it with another stone, hoping to make a sharp edge. After I finished beating stone against stone without success, I moved on. After a while, I came across a more suitable stone, its sharp edge enough to turn my stick into a real weapon.
I began sharpening my stick, turning it into a spear. A sharp but fragile weapon. Not perfect, but something. With this "spear" I moved on, still hoping to find a river or at least some food. Along the way, I encountered strange animals that looked like large rabbits but had no ears. I tried to get close to them, but they noticed me at once and ran deep into the forest, not giving me even a chance to hunt.
For two days I wandered through that forest. Two days without food, water or the slightest hint of survival. With each passing hour, my strength left me faster and faster. Every attempt to catch a beast proved futile, and the strange animals I found seemed to be too smart for me. No wolf, no predator, though I expected them to appear. Why? Was it luck or some kind of sign? I didn't know, but exhaustion told me I wouldn't last long like this.
The forest, which seemed endless, didn't want to let me go. Every step was difficult, my legs were aching, and my stomach burned with emptiness. Weakness clouded my mind. I desperately hoped to find food, but the berries I found were either poisonously sour, like the yellow glowing fruits that made my tongue swell, or bitter and uneatable. Some just wouldn't chew. I tried tree bark but couldn't swallow it, too dry, too tasteless. My body was on edge.
"I have to find a way out," I repeated to myself. The forest seemed endless, and every step was like a road to nowhere.
...
I collapsed to the ground, helpless. The soft grass and fallen leaves cushioned the fall a little, but it still hurt. The impact rumbled through my bones, which were bulging from my thinness, and a sharp ringing echoed through my skull. My mouth felt dry, as if I'd swallowed the Sahara Desert itself, and my stomach felt like an insatiable black hole. I tried to get up, but I had no strength. The only thought that flashed through my mind was, "This is how I'm going to die.
My life was slipping away right before my eyes, and there was nothing I could do. I was desperate to live, to find my mother, to eat good food, to lie on a soft bed and experience the real joys of life. My body was smoldering, but my mind was on fire. My eyelids closed, my fingers stopped listening, and I was alone with my mind. My thoughts faded away, leaving only one desire to live. Only my senses connected me to this world, keeping me on the edge between life and death. I listened to the rustle of leaves, the breeze passing overhead, and the stirring of grass. I clung with all my might to this world that had been given to me and that I didn't want to lose.
And then it happened. I was so focused on my surroundings that the world opened up before me in new colors. A shiver ran through my body, and I saw everything in a new way. My eyes were closed, but I could see - not just see, but feel everything around me. I could see the sap flowing inside the nearest tree, feel the bugs swarming under the rocks, feel the wind flowing over my head. I could see myself - my heart beating at the last possible moment, blood flowing through my veins.
For a moment, I thought it was death euphoria, or perhaps my soul was on its way to the next world, but the feeling lasted too long. I continued to watch the world, even seeing things that were far away. And then I saw it - a beast. It wasn't exactly a deer: it had no ears or antlers, and strange outgrowths grew on its neck. The desire to eat it swept over me - that was my way to salvation. But I lay motionless, powerless. But I decided to fight. I tensed every cell of my body, sending powerful signals to my muscles. I literally shouted: "Get up!" and... I did. Slowly but surely, I stood up, opened my eyelids, and my normal vision merged with my "inner" vision. Goosebumps ran down my skin, my breathing hitched. This huge piece of coveted meat stood a hundred meters away from me, the trees parted, illuminating his body. I raised my spear and prepared to throw it, not knowing if it would work.
With my last gasp of will, I threw the spear at the beast. Surprisingly, I threw it with a force I didn't even realize I had. The impact was so powerful that I swayed and almost fell. When I looked up, I saw that I had hit him: the spear had gone straight through his neck. The beast on its four legs rushed away. Without a second thought, I chased after it.
Jumping over fallen logs, dodging branches, I was rapidly approaching. I wondered how I could move so fast and throw my spear when a moment ago I had been lying motionless. But the answer to that question didn't matter - I had to catch up with him. The beast's blood spurted from the wound, splashing into my face, but I didn't stop. Finally, he tripped over a log and collapsed. I grabbed the nearest large rock, brought it over my head, and delivered several crushing blows to the beast's skull. I didn't check to see if it was alive, but just started eating.
"I have drunk his blood and tasted his flesh."
When I woke up, the meal was almost over. I, drunk with hunger and adrenaline, was eating it with my hands. I knew it wasn't safe to eat raw meat and drink blood, but at that moment it was the last thing on my mind. My skin was covered in blood and I had chunks of meat stuck between my teeth. I ate so furiously that several milk teeth fell out in the process.
My new "sixth sense" was still working, and I continued to "feel" the surroundings. I tried to scan the forest to see as far as possible. The farther I traveled, the more this unusual vision dulled, but I still found what I was looking for: a river. Grabbing the beast by its hind legs, I slowly dragged it along the ground, leaving a trail of blood on the grass. When I finally reached the river, the first thing I did was look around, trying to find animals that could drink the water. Normal vision didn't help, so I used my inner vision again, and was surprised. Not a single living creature within 300 meters. Perhaps they scattered when they smelled my recent meal.
I decided to taste the water. I scooped it up with my hand and took a small sip. The water was acceptable, and after a few minutes, without feeling any effects, I began to drink in big gulps. With my head greedily lowered, I drank straight from the river like a ravenous beast. When I had quenched my thirst, I took off my clothes and began to wash away the blood. After ten minutes of careful attempts, it had turned pale, but it still hadn't completely washed away. That satisfied me. I hung my wet clothes on the branches and, naked, began to explore.
I gathered some large rocks and put them in a circle, then found dry branches, leaves, and two large sticks. I also picked up a sharp stone. After placing the leaves and branches in the center of the circle, I began to prepare to build a fire. I sharpened one stick with the stone, creating a small indentation at its end, and began rubbing the other stick against it, trying to create friction. Of course, it didn't work the first time, and after an hour my hands were burning, but not the stick. In a fit of anger, I twirled the stick with such fury that it finally started to smoke. I began to blow gently, and the fire slowly flared up. Finally, the fire burst into flames - life was good!
I found a branch, dipped it in the river, dried it, and threaded on it a few pieces of meat from the killed animal. I tried to roast it over the fire, but to my disappointment the stick caught fire, and I hastily began to put it out. I then decided to simply place the pieces of meat on large stones around the fire, and the fire reaching down to them, I began to roast them. Soon the aroma of cooking meat spread through the forest, and using my inner sight, I noticed that animals started moving towards my fire. I was not frightened; on the contrary, I felt like the king of the forest and sat proudly on a bed of leaves by the fire.
When the meat was done, I tried to get it off the rocks with a stick, but it fell to the ground and got dirty. Quickly picking it up, I rinsed it in the river and finally started to eat it. The taste was incredible, I had never tasted anything like it in my village. Having satisfied my hunger and thirst, I felt a growing fatigue. I put out the fire so as not to burn the forest and went to sleep, keeping my spear close by in case the animals decided to eat me. A few moments later I fell into a deep sleep.