When I opened my eyes, I realized I was still sitting in the chair, my head numb on one side from the pressure of the wooden edge, the crumpled paper under my cheek imprinting its texture into my skin.
So, yeah. It dawned on me that I'd fallen asleep. Or maybe just passed out. Maybe both, maybe …. Damn leave it!!! Well, after all it's hard to tell the difference when fear and hunger take turns rocking you to sleep.
For a moment, I thought I'd had a nightmare. But honestly it wasn't exactly that. Not horror, not even suspense, more like a tragic documentary directed by my subconscious in this violating situation. A vivid little proof and, another sad little confirmation of my pathetic state and my abysmal survival skills.
But there was this one good thing though? There was no rat.
Ufff that was a relief …
But that realization came hand in hand with a cruel realization, that I was still starving, totally famished and hungry.
It was clear to me now that I hadn't just fallen asleep from exhaustion. I was not that weak !!! I had actually fell unconscious because of my severe hunger…
Yes, I can easily make it less complicated for you and say that I'd fallen asleep with hunger pangs , but nope, passed out is the better term. "Falling asleep" sounds too cozy, too domestic, too peaceful, like I had the luxury of comfort. But in my humble opinion even saying the words comforting, luxurious, sleeping is a luxury in itself that I hadn't had in a long while… and Passing out from hunger, well now that's a headline, a clear description of my painful survival. And why shouldn't I use this exaggeration??
I couldn't cash in the nosebleed earlier not in school and not even now, but hunger pangs? Those have emotional value. So I want to use it to garner sympathy and kind words for my struggle.
Anyway, exaggeration aside, back to my pain, the only thing that seemed to occupy my head was the fact and the haunting feeling of hunger, starvation and malnourishment. And I swear, my condition demanded, if that rat appeared again, I might not resist the primal human instinct to, feed myself by thick or by thin. Fancy words aside … In short I felt that I will eat that rodent …
Ughhh. Even thinking about it makes me sick. I'm nauseous just imagining it.
Blarrgh….
But you know what… that's the thing about being human: we love to imagine ourselves noble, brave, moral , we make big plans, draw grand maps, talk about courage and endurance, we always do .. but until desperation strips away the poetry and when the real test comes, we crumble over something as basic as food.
While I was busy psychoanalyzing myself and moralizing my desperate thoughts, another growl came from my stomach, loud enough that I had to hold it. My face flushed with embarrassment. I'd never heard such a loud, empty sound come from myself before. Not because I was well-fed all my life , no. I just never paid attention to food.
Honestly, as much as I liked to call myself a "foodie," I was more of a functional eater. Breakfast, then dinner , water and motion in between. It worked. But here, in this little cabin, there wasn't even water to serve the illusion of survival.
People in these kinda situations usually say, Ah, if only I hadn't wasted money. Now I understand the poor. Blah blah … you definitely know what else they say…
But not me. My thought was simpler, dumber:
I should've eaten more when I could.
I should've eaten everything I ever wanted when I could.
And then amidst this regret, I remembered something.
Just a few days ago, my mother was sitting with me. It was one of those family get-togethers, everyone loud, everyone pretending to be real happy. She asked my siblings what they wanted to eat. When it was my turn, I said, "i will eat whatever …"
She looked at me for a while and then said, "I don't even know what your favorite food is!"
And I laughed at this. "Haha. Never mind. I don't know myself , how would you know?"
And that was it.
I didn't get anything to eat that night.
Because my mother , bless her innocent perception , thought my laughter meant I wasn't hungry, and have no urge to eat anything …
Now tell me , a man who last ate at eight in the morning, will he not be hungry again by eight at night?
Of course he will!!!
But that simple analogy must've been too complex for my family's collective intellect. Not even one person pointed that we haven't seen him eat anything … or everyone is eating he should have something as well…nope …nothing …
But then again, I have no complaints. It was my fault, really. I should've said what I wanted. Should've just said anything , junk food, fast food, even leftovers. But no. A little prince like me here thought and expected that they'd understand of course … they'll just know I thought
Ah, the naïveté of human thoughts. The carelessness of a human mind.
...
Grrrrrr…
Another growl snapped me back to the present out of my philosophical nonsense.
"Well," I muttered, "guess I'll have to think of something."
Because if I don't, the rat might start looking like dinner after all.
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