Wolfmeat

You must understand, dear reader, why I decided to leave the city for seventy-two hours. You might think it was some singular event, my boss yelling at me for a work he did wrong for instance. But rather it was the culmination of twenty-million tiny events that have dug to my soul and plucked out my being bit by bit. I could enumerate them all, but there are not enough papers, used or otherwise, that could keep my writing of the things I hate about my day-to-day life, even in the smallest print.

Every waking microsecond has been nothing short of hell.

So, you must understand now, my woeful decision that got me stuck here. But where is here? Well, thirty-six hours ago I decided to be an absolute chipper and camp out somewhere far from civilization. I had the thought that maybe, just maybe, I was stressed out because of how overbearing human society was nowadays. So, I packed my bags, prepared some camping gear that I was saving up for over three years now, and went off far.

To say far would be weird, however. I didn’t choose any specific camping grounds to recuperate. In my eyes, camping grounds were monetized for people who want to say that they want to leave human society but couldn’t really commit to it. An awful middle ground where you’re neither satisfied by the camping, or by the relaxation. And so, I stopped in the middle of the highway, stared into the forests on its sides, and made my way there.

That was roughly twenty-eight hours ago. Ever since then I’ve been lost in the middle of the forest. Camped out of my mind in somewhere I know I’ll never come back to, but can you blame me? I found an absolute gold mine of a spot. A clearing by a cliff side, it faced a roaring secluded waterfall. Far enough to not let the noise of its falls bother me.

Even at nighttime, when the only light came from my campfire, it was calming. I spent the rest of my vacation here. For the first night my dinner was just some regular vegetable soup, but the night after was when the trouble began. Let me recount my troubles.

It began when I plopped down some steak upon the pan. Would you blame me, reader? For wanting some steak for today? I know I would not blame myself; I hunger. Unfortunately, I was not the only one in the area that hungered.

A pack of wolves came out of the shrubbery, drooling as the scent of the steak enticed them so. I had no weapons in me, of course I’m not the type of person to be bringing a gun whenever I want, even if it’s to kill wolves. I’m not the type to be killing wolves either, or any animals for that matter.

Maybe I should.

They pounced on me as I pushed them away. Little by little they took ground, and the pristine idyllic waterfall paradise by the cliff was nothing more than a death trap. Now, bear with me here, dear reader. Would you rather be mauled to death by a pack of hungry wolves who definitely won’t be satisfied with just the steak? Or take control of your own life and jump? OBVIOUSLY, there’s more… ideal plans to be had. But what do I know? I jumped.

The jump felt far too long, thirty, maybe forty seconds? I don’t know, time feels weird when you’re experiencing something incredibly dangerous. Maybe I was just falling for 4 seconds? What do I know? The moment I hit water everything was just black. I didn’t even feel the water rush through my lungs, just empty nothingness.

And then?

Nothing but darkness for a year and a half.

I tried to move my body, but I couldn't. Breathe but I couldn’t. Feel anything, nothing. Only my thoughts remained in that dark empty expanse. Then a light, one so blinding, perhaps because I was way too used to the darkness. But when I came to, I was already 5.

In hindsight, gaining consciousness by the time I was 5 years old was probably a good thing. It would be far too awkward being babied with the consciousness of a 28-year-old man. But that’s beside the point, when I came to, I was sitting on a swing by the river. The quiet flow reminded me of the harshness of the waterfall on my death but, there were no wolves. Only its still movement, silent flow.

When I looked back, I saw what was supposed to be my house. A small, two-story stone house adorned neatly with flowers along its windows. A lady, my mother, was a young blonde woman tending the crops and flowers in our garden. I saw from a window inside the house were two other people, an older man, my father. And a younger girl, my sister. I knew it, somehow, by instinct.

I leaned by the river’s calm waters and took a look at my face. I had my mother’s hair and my father’s dark green eyes. I stared at my face longingly, in the year of darkness I often thought about why my life had fallen downhill like that. Was it the endless deluge of work that I drowned myself in following the loss of my supposed eternal? Maybe. Maybe it was all me.

“Ludwig!” My mother called out to me, “It’s time for lunch!” But this is a new life, right? It’s not a dream, yet for some reason the past lives on within my memories. It’s making me question if this is really another chance at living, or a way to redeem myself for what I’ve done in my past. Or the rest I sorely needed.

My mother’s voice was smooth and warm, like the sun upon my skin on a winter’s day. I would wonder then if sinking into her embrace like this was something I deserved, “My…” She kneeled in front of me, as if to level to my height. Then she would caress my face, “You’ve tired yourself from all the running, have you?”

My face sank into the warmth of her hands, “Yeah…” I replied. She gave me a warm smile, took my hand, and took me inside. I came to know more of my family after that. My sister’s name was Maria and she’s two years older than me. She felt like a nice person, maybe only towards me. But I wouldn’t understand, after all I was an only child in my previous life.

My mother, Elise, was the tailor of a noblewoman. Her payment in one dress is enough to feed us all for three years. And I’ve seen our attire, I would say that’s pretty well deserved. My father, Lawrence Hesse, is a baker. The bread that we eat today came from his own bakery, and with a simple bite I could feel the sensation and warmth I have long forgotten. The scent of home, the days rummaging in the storehouse in the countryside, the reeds that brushed up against my skin, before it all went under. All of it was there, in that one bite.

He seemed to have noticed my eyes welling up with each bite, “Calm now, save some for Maria.” He spoke. I looked over to Maria, who only stared at me and the bread blankly. I wonder then what was on her mind before she grabbed her own to eat.

That’s what it was. Dear reader, this may be the last time that I will address you. Maybe I will again, in the near future. But I want to get through this new life given to me with nary a remembrance of my past. And if I do remember, then perhaps it is because this is my path to atonement, or the resentment of some god towards my being. I’ve done an awful lot of terrible things in my past, the yelling, the manipulations and toxicity. I was a person as terrible as the reason I left. It would not be amiss to say that my earlier musings were nothing short of hypocrisy that deserves to be called out. I was terrible. I will admit that, and in some way, all that I’ve been doing leading up to this point was for a chance of atonement. Would I deserve such mercy? I do not know, I’m tired of running.

Blades of grass into reeds upon the meadows. The pastoral grounds induce peace into my body, I am tired of running, my dear reader. Running from my past, yet I am afraid to face it as well, and now. Perhaps there is no one there that would allow me to face such a thing. I am alone in remembering who I once was. Left with the memories of things non-existent. No motive nor person to vent out all my frustrations. Essentially manic musings by a manic child with a manic past. Would I deserve the mercy of forgetting? To enjoy this new world without a care? Am I deserving of such?

I would not know. But this is a new world, I would study it. Maybe I would find something, someone. It is the first day, after all. Thank you, dear reader. I hope you will continue to stay and read, even if it does come off as manic rambling sometimes. Let’s see this whole new world together, shall we?