Predator (DWT x OC)

32

"This is fucking stupid." I complain, shifting the heavy wooden beam on my shoulder, trying to wriggle it into a position that doesn't feel like its about to be dislocated at any second. "I never said I wanted any part of this."

Wilbur sighs from up ahead of me, his own beam balanced precariously on his left shoulder. "Can you stop complaining for two fucking seconds? You sound like Tommy." He says exasperatedly.

I gasp in mock offence. "I do not sound like Tommy!" 

Wilbur just laughs, and I turn my attention to the burning in my legs, as I force myself to climb the hill to the podium. I'm already out of breath, my muscles screaming at me to slow down, or take a break, lungs on fire as I gasp for oxygen. 

Fucking hell, why did I let Wilbur make me do this again?

We both stagger to the top eventually, flinging down the heavy beams and hunching over, hands on our knees as we take in huge, gasping breaths, faces bright red from exertion. 

"I am never helping you again, this is torture." I manage to say, once we've both regained the ability to breath normally.

"You're fine." Wilbur dismisses, as if I don't catch the grimace of pain on his face as he straightens up. 

"This was a violation of my human rights." I say, wiping sweat from my forehead.

"Too bad." Wilbur returns, deadpanned. 

"Aren't you supposed to try and ensure that crimes against humanity are not committed on your own citizens? Like, isn't that an important part of being in charge of a country?"

"I'm sure you'll cope just fine." 

"Whatever, I'm all gross and sweaty now, because of that torture you just put me through." I say pointedly. "I'm going to go for a swim."

Wilbur waves goodbye as I make my way down the bottom of the hill, leaving him to put the finishing touches on the podium for the pep rally tomorrow. I drop into Niki's bakery, saying hello to her and Jack, before grabbing a towel and gleefully heading into the woods. 

I reach the secluded pond in good time, a rippling glassy pool secluded by thick green canopy and heavy set, marbled boulders. The sunlight wafts in between the broad leaves, dappled spots of warm golden yellow that flitter over my cheeks and nose, the points of my shoulders, the middle of my thighs. Like soft, gentle, glowing caresses, the sun kissing my skin. 

The ancient trees circle the deep pond, thick, curved brown trunks, twisted and gnarled, and so very every present and stationary, like they'd always been there and couldn't possibly move. Time wrapping its fluffy moss and snaking vines and weathered exterior over them, as if the overgrowth could mask the life within. 

I strip off my yellow shirt and stiff black pants, slipping out of my shoes and socks, leaving my bra and underwear. It's so far into nature out here, that the only things that could see anything are the trees.

In one breath I dive into the depths, relishing the beautiful cool against my overheated skin, the way I feel so light, so effortless in the still water, as if its snaking tendrils are curling over every inch of my body, suspending me in weightlessness. The refreshing cold soothes my skin, as I close my eyes, suspended in the water, letting tiny little waves pitter patter against my forehead, feel the silky flow of my hair caress the sides of my face and neck. 

Its times like these I just forget everything, everyone, and all I know is the gentle, relieving embrace of nature, the strong steady rhythm of the world turning around. So many wars, so much death and heartbreak and conflict and yet the trees are here, strong and sturdy. It's reassuring, in a way.