The VFMS Spark | Page 66

An Unexpected Journey

It’s day three. Three days of mind-numbing pain. Three days of constant downpours. A wealthy business man laced in silk and linen reduced to a bumbling ape, clamoring around aimlessly in the Amazon. Why was I even walking? Every step shot a blinding pain through my numb body, my leg torn apart from the initial impact. I was walking to stay alive, but what would await me if I survived? My own son ripped out of my hands, my wife struggling to keep my daughter upright. I watched helplessly as every member of my family was slaughtered right in front of me. Where was I going? Why was I walking?

I took a break every ten minutes to stop the bleeding in my leg and tend to the wound on my shoulder. During the walks, I would try to keep my mind dormant, leaving behind the painful memories of the past. Despite my intentions, my mind wondered as I walked the long, desolate path. My wedding, my son’s first hit on the baseball field, my daughter’s dance recital. These events tore through my heart and weakened my resolve. While I trekked through the forest, animals raced around me. They watched. They listened. They survived. I envied their natural instincts, their will and cunning intellect. Generations of organisms gave them everything they needed to know. All I had was survival rations and a dead family.

I swear I saw him. He was there. I just know it. He was rugged, had broad shoulders and creased brows. He was tall with deep black locks. He was what I needed.

It’s day four. Today I started my journey to find my savior, the man who would rip me from the sociological hole I had been trapped in since the day I gazed into my son’s lifeless eyes. I began walking as I had in days before, sluggishly and with no urgency. No, this felt different. I had a purpose to live, a reason to continue walking. This man was my final light, the only thing that kept me from the darkness. The tracks grew harder to read, the constant drizzle making them almost impossible to decipher. My pace increased, and my legs started to move at a mild trot. No more

By Connor N.