A-Void

Sahara: The Void Journal.

Peter stared at the void in front of him. He had come to like the word void.

It so accurately described him.

Dust and sweat covered his body, but the boy ignored it.

He took out the book which he carried with him everywhere, and sat flat on the hot sand.

Taking out a pencil, the spider stared at the cover of his book. He approved of the cover. It was made for him by him and was nothing short of the truth...

The Void Journal.

This journal, much like its owner, you should avoid.
~The information inside is written by a void.~

He flipped to the first empty page, connecting pencil to paper and allowing his mind and muscle to do the rest...

It's months into the mess I have bestowed upon myself. I could not tell you how long, just that it's been too long.

I am starting to run out of supplies of dry ramen, beans, and corn. Coldwater is a myth in the daytime. I am more than fairly certain it never existed in the first place...

Kind of like me... Just a hallucination.

I've been getting a lot of those too.

Some of fresh food, which may also be nothing more than a fairy tale, and some...

Some of... Memories.

But, are they even really that? Did I ever actually exist? Was May real? Am I even alive? What do feelings feel like? Does it feel like the everyday sun, which burns into my skin, making me redder than my so-called 'Spidey suit'?

Does it feel like the cold nights where I can do nothing but hope the three worn blankets and old jacket I wear are enough for me to see the next day?

Do I even 'see the next day'?

I've been lost, both figuratively and mentally for so long that I, dear journal, can not tell you whether my name is really Peter. What if that was just a hallucination too?

I remember crying over May. Missing a Strange man whose cloak I can recall. Why was I crying?

Did something happen to them? Did they even really exist?

Then there is the 'Ed' person.

Did I even really know a person named Ed? I remember something about a handshake whenever I think of him.

Speaking of people, a peculiar thing happened today...

Today I saw a person, she looked a bit older than I, and I think I have a memory of her stored somewhere in the hard drive I call my mind. Anda Maximo... Or something along that line.

It was strange. It seemed as though she wanted to come near me, but then kept returning to where she was originally.

Though, this could all be another hallucination. Just the heat playing tricks on my mind, which so desperately wants to find civilization again. And me so desperately wanting someone to WANT to come near me...

But, as we both know, dear journal, I am nothing but someone to avoid.

I should never have just walked when I jumped off the ship in the middle of nowhere that day.

I saw land.

I assumed that's where they were going to stop the ship.

But, even when I realized it was a desert, undoubtedly the Sahara desert, based on the directions they were sailing, even then I didn't think what just wandering off would bring me.

One would think pain...

But no.

It's an empty feeling... A void. Just like you and I, dear journal.

My walking till my feet couldn't carry me anymore and falling asleep there and then, was the dumbest idea in mankind, which by the way is still up for debate whether it exists...

How was I meant to know any footprints I made would be long gone by the time I woke up? How was I meant to know which way to walk from there? Not the direction I chose, obviously... But, for all I know I could be walking in spirals.

I don't even know why I am writing this. I think I read somewhere that writing helps you cope. But, that may not be real either.

What even is the word 'real'. Do people actually exist? Or am I the only one of my kind?

Just a void.

Something all, and I think they know this because all do, should avoid.

My burns are getting worse. But, honestly, I'd take them before the feeling of dread whenever I think about May any day.

The only thing which can make me feel a touch of pain INSIDE my body, not out. Something appearing in my void.

She's the only one I remember fully...

The only one I care to remember fully.

Aunt May.

Whether she was real or not...

I wish she was here...

The boy dropped his pencil into his bag and walked again.

"What else is there to do in any case?" He thought.