Mindless panic and running away it is

I drop my phone, accepting that it is useless to me. I couldn’t possibly call my ex, I need to figure something else out. I can’t drive, have no home to go to, I should just go to the hospital. Maybe I could ask for a ride? It’s a small town, the hospital isn’t that far away and I shouldn’t have to explain myself much since my appearance is obviously wrong… I could call an ambulance even, but this doesn’t feel like it’s killing me so it’s not an emergency. Besides, I can’t afford an ambulance ride.

Before I can think further, a door bursts open down the street, and a woman runs out in her underwear. Many of the stores on this street have residences on the second floors. She runs to a car and pulls open the side door. She doesn’t get in though, just leaning down with her torso inside. She stands back up straight in time for a… what the fuck is that? It looks like a cross between a lizard man and a tree, with a literal bushy tail. And it walks out of the same door as the woman had. The woman lifts her arms and… I jump as several loud bangs ring out. The lizard/tree man falls to his knees and raises one hand, as the woman steps closer and shoots it in the head.

… I slide down to the floor. I don’t like this. My body starts shaking in fear at the site of something getting shot to ****. Something that doesn’t look human but also kind of looks human shaped. Like me, right now. My phone beeps, and I look at it. It’s an emergency alert. Wide spread reports of wild animals all over town. Including in many peoples houses. I pull up the news.

The emergency alert must have been sent out by someone thinking the reports they were getting had to be exaggerated. The news wasn’t mincing words though. Monsters, appearing all over. Every town, every city. Seemingly every country. And a lot of those monsters were appearing in people’s houses. And a lot of those houses had a missing family member.

Suddenly my lack of a place to go isn’t just sad and depressing, it’s an immediate existential crisis. My eyes tear up as it dawns on me that I might get shot. I need to leave. Where doesn’t matter, but I can’t stay here. I look in the glove compartment and back seat… and find absolutely nothing useful except a couple of old granola bars. I am not ready for this. I don’t even know what this is, but I know I’m not ready for it. I open my door and close it behind me quietly to not draw attention to myself from the gun lady or anyone else who came out to gawk. I hurriedly begin waddling down the street in my boots, which isn’t very fast. Tears begin to stream down my face, and I make sure my hood is up to hide my weird hair and large ears.

As I get about a block away, I break down a little. These boots are killing me. I don’t like the idea, but I’m not getting anywhere fast with them. So I ditch my boots and continue in just my socks. It feels so wrong to have my feet without shoes outside, but this isn’t the time to worry about that. Free of my boots, I’m able to make it several more blocks in the same time the first one took. I hurry as best I can. I’ve been lucky so far, but as the morning goes on I’m going to run into more and more people, and one of them is going to notice I look weird. I spot a child’s bike… it looks about the right size for my tiny self. It’s in a bike rack, but not locked. I am so sorry small child, but this isn’t the time to worry about that.

With my morality compromised, I am able to make much better time to the edge of town. I don’t really have a plan beyond getting away from people. The few cars on the road seem unlikely to be able to see my face under my hood as they drive by, so I am at least a little safe now. I stop on the sidewalk and consider my options… I still have none. Great, that was easy. I sniffle and wipe my tear streaked face dry. I need information. I reach for my phone… oh no. Please no. I feel my hoodie pouch and then reach inside to confirm. Everything fell out. My phone, my ID, my wallet. One of the granola bars managed to stay in while I peddled.

I look back on the path I came from. I’m out of town now, and I got the bike a while ago. There is a ton of space my things could have fallen at. By now the town is fully awake, and from what I saw everyone was at least starting to get a sense of panic. Today isn’t the time to be there… and is a bed under a tree any worse than an alley? I was running low on money too. This is bad, but functionally it just moves up my demise by like a week. I start crying again. How did I end up so helpless?

I get back on my stolen bike and start riding again. I don’t own a watch so I don’t know the time anymore without my phone. I think it’s getting to noon when I stop and realize all that will happen if I keep following the road is I’ll end up at another town I can’t risk entering for a while. So I turn off and head into the woods in search of somewhere to just sit for a day or two, long enough to hopefully let people calm down and not shoot people when they see them… preferably somewhere with food. My indecisive butt turns back around and gets back along the side of the road. I know there is a gas station a bit further along, maybe I can dumpster dive for food in the middle of the night.

I get close enough to spot the gas station and then start my bike ride into the forest. I have to be careful and use trails, since I ditched my boots. Pavement is one thing, and dirt is one thing. Twigs, bushes, and rocks of the regular forest floor is definitely not going well with my feet. I keep going until I find a small group of younger trees that seem to be growing at an angle and are almost falling over, creating a little leafy shelter. I look underneath, and it’s pretty rocky with some small bushes. I move in anyways and start throwing out the rocks that look the most likely to be accidentally sat on, and tear up the small bushes. All these leaves look brown, but they feel smooth and alive. Come to think of it, the whole forest seems brown. Weird, it’s not autumn or anything. I don’t have time to worry about this. I finish making it somewhat livable under my impromptu shelter, and then sit.

And sit. I’m going to die under some trees. I look at my single granola bar. I should save it for later, but I’m already getting hungry. I didn’t exactly worry about a proper dinner, I panicked and waddled/biked through breakfast, and it’s past lunch too now. I eat the granola, wondering about the odds that I die with it being my last meal.

And I wait. And wait.

————————————————————————

I wake up in confusion. It’s getting dark in this strange brown forest. Oh, right. I ran away to not get shot. I’m a homeless person, and I have no car either. The best plan I could come up with on short notice was to dumpster dive. I hadn’t really appreciated how much even my sad jobless self was relying on being about to interact with other people at least enough to buy things. I could have eventually gotten a job at minimum wage if nothing else. Now I can’t even do that.

I leave my little shelter, one that probably won’t stop any rain at all but at least it covers me from view, and start heading to the gas station to check if it’s empty enough for me to approach it’s dumpster.

I end up having to wait quite a while longer before the parking lot is empty, but when it is empty but for the single employee’s vehicle, I approach the brown dumpster. I don’t know if there is any useable food in it, but I can’t exactly afford to be picky… I’m too short to reach the top. Crap. I’m literally not good enough to successfully dumpster dive. I start to cry quietly again. I’ve been a crying a lot today. I don’t bother wiping my face or trying to stop, I just keep weeping as I search for anything I can use to reach the top. I eventually find an old milk carton in the woods nearby, and carry it back to the dumpster.

Using it as a stool, I manage to open the lid and peer inside… and that is a smell. I ignore my nose and look around… oh god, am I really going to have to eat that? I’m not even sure what it is. And the flies are already going at it. I crawl hike myself over and crawl inside, hoping it’s not as bad as it seems. I get the mystery food into a garbage food tray, and crawl back out. It seems to be a half eaten hot pocket type food… away from the dumpster, it doesn’t actually seem that bad. Bad or not… I need to eat it if I want to be able to move tomorrow under my own power.

I take a deep breath and hope this doesn’t kill me, then eat it fast to minimize how much I taste it. It’s not great… it’s terrible. It definitely touched some other things while in there and I can taste them. Was it drenched in a bucket of grease? I head back to the forest and hide again. Yup, this is my life now, and it will be until I can ask someone for help without getting shot.

I get comfortable. Well, I try to but the ground is not great for that. I curl up and as best I can in side my hoodie sweater. And then I have a thought. One that isn’t just mindless panic or self pity. The gas station has a news paper stand. I can use that to see when I can go back to town. It should at least let me see if people are still shooting things.

Finally, something approaching a plan. I can survive like this for a day or two. I should probably start considering if life is worth continuing after that, but for now… I can sort of keep going. This doesn’t bother me. I’m a tough person. I don’t need to have a family, or friends, or society to get by. I’m fine right here. I found food in a dumpster… I am running out of tears and need to hydrate, but for now I cry more, sobbing without anymore tears. Proving I can get by without.

Despite sleeping most of the afternoon, I find myself drifting off to sleep again. I briefly wonder if I’ll ever sleep in a bed again, before sleep claims me. I dream of beds, and dumpsters, and coffins.