I Didn’t Starve

“Say pal, you don't look so good,” a voice above me says, “You better find something to eat before night comes.”

My vision clears just in time to see a tall, lean man disappear into a puff of smoke. I sit up and immediately regret it; my head throbs. I look around and see that I am in a forest clearing. I get up and wander around, wondering how I got here. Last night must have been one hell of a party.

I reach into my pocket for my pocket-watch and discover it is missing. Strange, it was there earlier. Patting the rest of my pockets I find everything else I own is missing. Well, balls. My father is going to be pissed at me when I get back. I look around hoping they have just fallen out of my pockets and notice I am not on a path and I do not see anything familiar. Even the trees are not the same as at home. I don’t think I am in Washington anymore.

I decide that sitting around would accomplish nothing, I start walking. While walking, I find some berries. They Might be poisonous; I better not risk it. My stomach growls at that very moment, reminding me that I have not eaten in… who knows how long. I decide to take the risk and pop a few into my mouth. They explode as I chew,—unleashing a tidal wave of juice and tiny seeds. Their juice is sweet and tastes like… actually, I do not know what they taste like, but they are good. I take a few more for the road. Not the road, exactly, more like the strange, dark, mysterious, creepy forest.

I continue on, hoping I will find civilization before night falls. I have no wish to spend the night in a forest.
I have always had a good sense of time so even without my pocket-watch I know it is well past noon. I walk for another hour and find myself back where I started. F**king Hell, I just walked in a circle. I look around and see lots of materials on the ground. Well, as long as I am here might as well collect any useful stuff I find. I start by picking some tall dry grass nearby. Should be useful if I have to make a fire. Knowing fire needs more fuel than grass, I head over to a tree to break off some branches.

“I don’t think I can do that.” Odd. Why did I say that out loud? No one can hear me. But, it is true these branches are too thick to break with my hands. I search around for branches on the ground. Instead I find a few pieces of flint. I could make an axe out of this and then cut that tree down. I gather some twigs off a sapling to use as the handle. Now, how the hell do I make an axe? I have no idea but evidently my hands do. They get to work, whirring around and in seconds I have made a sturdy axe. Mighty fine job, if I do say so myself.

I start to chop down a tree. After fifteen swift strokes of my axe the tree falls to the ground with a dull thud. I raise the axe to chop it into more manageable pieces. Thunk. The axe embeds itself six inches into the soft earth. I yank the axe out and clean the blade off on the edge of my shirt. Strange, it seems odd I missed the whole tree. Upon closer inspection I find the reason I had missed. The tree had already been chopped into three logs. I pick these up along with the two pinecones that had fallen as well.

After spending another hour searching for useful materials I sit down to eat some berries and survey my finds. In total I have:
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Logs (20)
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Berries (6- after I finished the one I am eating)
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Flowers (13)
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Flint (6)
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Twigs (17)
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Rocks (3)
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Grass (19)
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Carrots (7)
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Axe (1)
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Pinecones (8)
I felt like with these resources I could make it to civilization as long as I did not walk in a circle, again. I pack everything carefully into my pockets finding I have alot more pockets than I thought I had. After everything was in its own pocket I stand up expecting to be weighted down by the logs and rocks I have. But, to my surprise I feel as light as normal. It sure is strange. It doesn’t help me wondering why this is. So, I headed off hoping everything will be back to normal soon.
The sun was low in the sky when I decide to stop for the night. I start a fire using up two logs and three grass tufts. Like with the axe my hands seemed to know what they were doing even if my brain does not. I sit down to warm by the fire and my stomach growls again, hoping to be fed. I pull out three carrots and a handful of berries. They were cold after sitting in my pockets the whole day. I cook them over the fire and their taste improves greatly. They even feel more filling.
I finish cooking the rest of my food when the sky suddenly darkens. I am glad I built a fire I would be soooo lost right now if I had not. It is now pitch black outside the bubble of fire light. I walk to the edge of the light and stick my head out. I could see absolutely nothing. “It’s so dark.” I just did it again. I talked out loud when there was no one to hear me. I look around trying to see something as my eyes adjust. I hear rustling and scraping coming closer. I hastily pull my head back into the light and blink as my eyes readjust. I add another log to the fire and stare into its depths.
*
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I wake with my head on a rock and a crick in my neck. I sit up, rub my neck and look around. I then prod the remains of my fire to breathe some life back into it but, it is beyond revival. I pack everything back into my pockets except two carrots which I intend to eat for breakfast. I double check that I have left nothing behind and then head in what I think is the right direction. The flora around me begins to change. The trees change from having short needles to having long droopy ones. There are less and less flowers the farther I go and consequently the number of butterflies I see is less. My way is made easier by the fact that there were no more rabbit holes to trip in. I begin to feel as if I am being led somewhere.
I continue for another hour before I come to a strange village. It consists of eight well-constructed houses. I feel uneasy in this village. I notice why; the houses although sturdy are tall and skinny, in fact too skinny for even my slender frame to fit into. I don’t think that normal people live here. I walk closer to one of the houses. And as I do the door swings open and a hunchbacked figure emerges from the house. Something is up with those houses for sure, that man is almost as big as the house. The figure walks forward inspecting me. I do the same and take in its bare, quite hairy legs, its browned grass skirt. It wears no shirt. That might not be such a bad idea friend, it is getting warm. I move my eyes up to its face and am shocked. That is one ugly mug you have there, man. I make a second take and realize that it is not deformed but is in fact a face of a pig. I re-access and come to the conclusion that it is not a man with a pig head but a very man like pig. My notion is confirmed when I notice it has floppy pig ears. Not wanting to be on bad terms with it I reach into my pocket and pull out a carrot and offer it. It gobbles it up and turns to leave without as much as a “Thank You.” I am about to say something but stop. What do I expect from such a pigheaded man? Ha Ha. Good one.
More of the pigmen emerge from their houses. Not sure if these will be a excepting as the last and not wanting to give all my food away, I back off slowly. After I am out of the village proper I break into a run. It is now late even though it feels like I just woke up.

I find a suitable camping spot and make another fire. Darkness falls and I hear the night creatures stirring. I ignore them by humming the tune to my favorite song. I feel myself drifting off to sleep and put up no resistance.
*
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*

I pack up camp and eat my last carrots for breakfast. I start walking again and after only minutes I come across a graveyard. There is one poor soul whose body was not buried. I search his body feeling guilty for disturbing his afterlife. Curious about who would be buried out here in the wilderness I read the headstones “Milk. Eggs. Bacon.” “Here lies …“ I bend closer to read the name. “Hey that’s my name!” Why is my name on this grave, I am not dead? Yet. I decide to ignore the grave and move on.

Still shocked by sight of my own grave I stumble off in a random direction. Once again I see the area change around me. The trees lose their needles and become spikey. Wouldn’t want to walk into one of those. The ground is now spongy and wet. Small ponds surrounded by reeds are riddled with nasty looking frogs. Walking on the soggy ground is tiring so I stop for a rest. SPLURK. I look around for the source for the noise. I pause trying to hear it again. Nothing. I swivel around looking for anything unusual, well more unusual. I see nothing. Now rested, I slowly make my way on. SPLURK. There it is again. I stop, wary of what could be making that noise.

Something spikey yet squishy hits me across the shoulder. The spikes gash out a large chunk of my shoulder. I feel the warm blood flow down my back and now useless arm. The spiked thing comes back around for another hit. A relatively spike free area hits me in the back of my head. I stagger forward. The thing hits me once again, this time in the back, knocking the wind out of me and flattening me to the ground. I want to at least know what is about to kill me. I roll over onto my back wincing when I have to use my bloody shoulder and again when mud enters the wound. I see the spiked end of a purple-red tentacle whooshing towards my face. I raise my arm to fend off the blow. The tentacle makes contact and I hear the crack of my bones as I scream in pain. I know I am screwed and am about to die, unable to use my arms to get away. I lay there knowing I only have seconds left to live. Too bad my family will never know what happened to me. The spikes come into view again. This is the end. But it is not. The spike skewers my belly. It pulls away taking some of my organs come with it. They slide off the spike and land with a spat beside me. The blood spatters my face. I am too numbed to do anything. A stray thought drifts into my mind. This is one brutal creature in one hell of a messed up world. The tentacle comes in for the final blow. It lands smack-dab on my lungs. The air is pushed out and the world goes black.
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*

“Say pal, you don't look so good” a voice above me says, “You better find something to eat before night comes.”

Am I really alive after all that crap? I sit up and marvel at the fact that my arms are whole. What happened to me and why should I be amazed by my arms. I have no recollection of my past. Man, this is strange.