The smell of pine was strong in the fresh morning air. The cool light breeze sent shivers down your spine. “Run faster!” Screeched my dearest brother Jacob. With the little breath I have left slowly escaping from my body I am struck with the sudden realization that my legs are starting to weigh me down, causing them to collapse from underneath me. It was as though someone was unaware that they were carrying bricks for hours on end. Depression forms as I suffer the anxiety of my brother's figure and voice being strangled by the thick fog making me feel lost, weak, and alone.
Something was wrong. As my sixth sense kicks in I knew that my brother was hurt. Though he was nowhere to be found and my body was growing weaker than ever for walking around endlessly, I was sure something had happened. Then suddenly, there was a mumble in the distance. No, a groan, for there was most definitely agony in it. I struggle to make my way over towards the faint sound. Every step I took was filled with the excruciating pain of needles and thorns tearing through my skin.
As I approach a waterfall I see what looks like a dead dog lying on a rock in the middle of the river. I limp towards it in fear. When I get closer it was clear that I had every right to be afraid. Jacob was lying on the rock worn and limp. Getting closer I start to feel the warm tears flowing down my face and was instantly able to tell just how salty and bitter they were. Unable to face the truth that my baby brother was perishing a sad slow death. Collapsing to the earth, I see that today I am weaker, hungrier, and more desperate than I have ever been in my entire life. I thank the lord that nobody was around to see me. Nobody except the now lifeless corpse of my dearly departed brother.
After hours of sitting there something strikes me. Jacob was the only one who knew his way out, my phone was dead, and I didn't even know if I was close to town anymore. Not to mention the excruciating stomach pains from missing breakfast and having no food with me now. I thought that I was about to pass out when I started to smell something that made my mouth water and my belly grow louder. My brothers corpse was burning in the summer heat. Desperate, I crawl over to the body and pet it lovingly. Jake was dead, but I didn't care. I grab his hand as if it would comfort me. My poor luck had caused his finger to snap off. I pick it up in a desperate attempt to put it back onto him so I would be able to pretend that I still had my baby brother and that everything would be okay. I stopped to ponder about life and how this could've happened to me. Out of habit, I stick his cold dead flesh in my mouth like a person would a pencil and chew on it.
Lost in thought as one would be in a dream as sweet memories of the happy times melt together and warm me. I quickly snap out of it. Dazed and confused, I cannot recall what I did with the finger. I reach into my pocket to find bone. Struck by what I had done a hurl myself towards the edge of the rock and being to spew out the remains of his finger. I sit there shaking and disgusted at myself for doing such an unimaginable act.
The day becomes night as the sun sets on this horrid day. I lie on the rock stunned and scared. The hunger becomes too much and I, confused as can be finish off my brother.
I dispose of the bones about an hour later near a cavern where I saw a bear enter not long ago. Never would I have even considered to do so if I hadn't of heard voices in the distance. I scream for help and aid came quickly to save me. It was a young couple. A woman named Gabi Hopkins and her husband Victoria Thornburg. They practically had to carry me back to there vehicle. It was a sleek coal black truck with mushroom brown leather interior. It smelled of tacos and big macs. They had agreed to take me in for the time being.
Arriving at there house, they figured I must have been starved. Unfortunately I wish they were correct. Guilt built up in every corner of my body as the memories flooded back. I ate despite the fact I was full. I couldn't let them know. I didn't even mention my brother.
Later that night I had gotten a craving like none other. I tried to sleep it off but it was no use. It still lingered in the morning. Star struck I realize what it was.....flesh. But how? I recall my brother's death and realized the scent of the blood and flesh overwhelmed me. I walk downstairs to find the happy couple making pancakes. Despite the glorious smell of real food the craving was too strong. I was well aware of what I would be having for breakfast today.
“Well good morning sleepy head!” exclaimed the oh so cheerful wife. Her smile slowly faded as I stood there unresponsive. Finally I develop a plan. “Here, you've done so much for me, why don't you let me help?” I ask sweetly. Thrilled, Gabi's cheerful smile returns quickly. The pancakes finish cooking and I go to the knife drawer so I can cut the “pancakes”. Lucky for me it's were I can easily block the kitchen exit. It all goes blank after that. Everything I do I know I'm doing but just wasn't aware that I knew it. Things started to blend together. The slicing of flesh, the screaming, the uncontrollable urge to be drawn to flesh.
The next thing I know I'm running. Unable to recall why, I just keep going. I stop at a river and realize something warm lies upon my cheek. Not like tears, you can't taste the salt in it. I stare at my reflection stunned as the reoccurring fear and desperation comes back to me. I want to feel regret. The truth is, I'm never wanted anything more in my life. Drawing to the conclusion that I could get away with it, I decide to feed my urge for flesh.
After a week or so of my success, I fall victim to the lie that I didn't have to be as careful since nobody's caught me yet. My logic's assuring me that if I lived in the woods and survived off of lost travelers, then nobody around here would know them so I would be safe.
Seemingly snug and safe in my den I fall asleep. I awake to screams of terror as the cops and, what I suppose to be relatives of the victims, surround me. Defeat was sour. Glares of hatred are aimed directly towards me. I go as peacefully as any cannibal can. Snapping and screaming at those who've defeated me. Little did I know they would actually be prepared for this type of situation. With a stunner to paralyze me, a straight jacket to restrain me, and a muzzle so they wouldn't get bit, they placed me in the back of there police van.
In all honesty the mental ward wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. Locked in a cozy room with good food, what else could a person want? I'll tell you, flesh. The down side to it is they've had to take big precaution steps since I have managed to bite off a few fingers and one ear. But if we look on the up side, my friends still visit me. I don't that they tell me they always knew I'd end up here. It's just good to have company, even if I am chained to a wall.
Despite my efforts, all the trials I went through to escape have failed. Currently plotting for the future, I await my opportunity to make my next move. Until then I wait. This time....I will succeed.