The thing about waking up next to a dead body is that you notice if it is still warm. In the case that it is, you can trick your brain into thinking that they’re still alive until you notice the stillness of it. A body is meant to be moving, and when it isn’t, it is impossible not to notice, at least when you’re so close to something so unnatural.
The response after is determined by the living. In one case, they can scream, jerk away from it as they stare at the body in horror, or they can try to match the stillness, slowing their body, trying to resemble the unnatural in an attempt to find balance. In my case, I passed out.
Now, was this a response you were expecting? It wasn’t one of the choices given, but shock is a strong force and my body responded. I wouldn’t survive in a horror movie with that type of response, but somehow I am.
The body next to me would have survived, but they didn’t, surprising how real life works. The body used to have a name-I won’t tell you it. Not because I’m mean, but because if I do, I’ll start crying and then I might be found. Maybe later, if I live, I might. Probably not though.- but I can’t seem to remember it at the moment. All I know is that they thought this trip to the woods was stupid and that we shouldn’t have gone. They were right, not that it matters much now.
There is a creak somewhere outside, and I try to resemble the unnaturalness in the environment around me. It gets louder, closer, and I should run, but I can’t seem to get up. Quite useless I know but what if they hear and rush to get to me? I stay still blending into the death around me as much as a living thing can. The footsteps pass, getting quieter. I hear someone scream further away. It muffles my own sounds. Should I try to help them? No, don’t be stupid.
I lie there for hours. I think the killer thinks I’m dead. What a wonderful thing for me. Usually, nobody wants to be thought of as dead, but in this case, I’m glad. In a movie, I would be the character that would come back at the last second to save the main character from certain death before dying for real.
I’ll stay here until help arrives. It should arrive soon, shouldn’t it? In this forest miles away from civilization where a killer has been for hours, killing the people I know. I mean, we told people that we were all going on this trip, and some people have to survive, right? Hopefully, it’s not just me. It would be bad if it were just me. Maybe it will take a couple of days. If it takes more than three, I’ll have to go out, but hopefully people will come sooner.
All I know is this trip has been a memorable one. I mean, I’ll never forget this for as long as I live, and I will live. I have too. I do. So do the others, but at least five of them are dead now. The reason I have to is that I'm going on a trip with my family in two weeks. It’s been in my plans for ages, and I can’t let my last trip be this. I mean, what would my family think?
The wind blows, and I can feel bugs crawling on my legs, poking at the wound near my knee. I would flick it away, but I have to stay still, you see? I wonder why it is not crawling on the body next to me. Don’t bugs usually stick near the dead? Does that mean I’m next? I mean, I’m glad that they aren’t; the body doesn’t need that right now, at least while it’s still warm. I hope that it stays warm. Maybe they’ll come back. Please come back. Â
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