Sweet Dandelion

Safety, what is that anymore?

I hear voices of others sneaking through the woods. They’re not being quiet at all.

Don’t they know you have to be quiet?

“I think they went in the woods!” A voice shouts somewhere behind me close to the house.

I haven’t made it far enough away yet.

Panic grips me once more.

I don’t want to die.

More footsteps thunder into the woods. I look around for anywhere to hide, knowing I have to get down and out of the way.

Moving as quietly as I can I find a spot where a tree has fallen. I tuck my body beneath it. My dark clothing provides a camouflage. I lay as still as I possibly can, holding my breath, playing dead.

The voices get farther away, going in another direction.

But I still don’t get up and move. I’m too afraid of them coming back.

My fingers grow numb from the cold. My body wants to shiver, but somehow I keep control of every muscle in my body—too afraid of rustling even a leaf.

An hour passes, maybe longer, before I finally climb out from under the tree. Things have been silent for a while. Fear begins to settle in my bones as I trek through the woods, my leg protesting with every single step. I start crying again. I hate being scared. I don’t want to be scared anymore. I never want to have to fear for my life and here I am.

Digging my phone out of my pocket, there’s no signal.

No fucking signal and I’m alone in the woods. The sounds of animals scampering through the dark forest are the only thing to keep me company but they’re only frightening me more. Are there bears out here?

I wrap my arms around myself, but it does little to help me stay warm.

Where’s my jacket?

I didn’t realize until now I’m not wearing it, but blearily I recall taking it off when I was playing beer pong with Sasha.

God, I’m so cold.

My teeth start to chatter, but I’m scared the noise might draw attention from anyone who could still be out here, so I bite down on my tongue, immediately tasting blood.

I don’t know how far I’ve walked before I finally exit the woods onto a dark gravel road. I look left and right, but there’s no sign of any sort of life.

Digging out my phone I find that I have a signal. I call Ansel first. It rings and rings and rings. I try him again. A third time. Still nothing. My worry escalates.

Is he hurt? Shot? Stabbed? Dead?

I call Sasha next. It goes straight to voicemail.

Fuck!

Text messages begin rolling in now that I have service.

Sasha: Where r u?

Sasha: Cops r coming

Sasha: We r buuuusted

Sasha: I’m leaving WHERE R U?