dear friends // froger

two: is he dead?

John

Everything hurts.

My lips are stained with dry blood, crusting around them and making them hard and cracked. The world isn't spinning as much now, but every now and then everything goes black and I have to sit down and regain my balance. Occasionally nausea creeps up my oesophagus, dampening my mouth, but I manage to hold it down. Whatever's left in my stomach. I haven't eaten since Friday but I'm not entirely sure how long ago that was. This feels like a pretty bad hangover, but I'm not even sure the alcohol's left my system yet.

I stumble on a branch lying on the ground below me. My sight isn't brilliant. One of my eyes seems to be glued shut. Perhaps in my drunken state I walked into a tree or something. That would explain the bloody nose and the throbbing headache.

I thump my body down on the earthy ground, the world going dark around the edges of my eye. Amazingly, I manage to crawl around and locate a tree, which I rest my back against. I've done this before. It's routine now; just breathe slowly. In and out. Eventually, my senses return and I can see again. It takes me a minute to recognise the world around me. Exactly the same place I was in a couple of minutes ago, a forest maybe? I mean, there's trees- an abundance. The wind rushes through them, rustling their leaves. I watch as they sway around me. It's kind of soothing. I breathe in as much fresh air as possible, but then my mouth feels dry and I realise how thirsty I am. When was the last time I had a drink? No, not alcohol, shit. I don't know.

I feel sick. I'm dehydrated. Things start to spin again as I panic. I don't know where the fuck I am and I seriously don't want to die. Not here, not now. The past few days have been blurry, like a paint smudge on a perfectly white canvas. I can't have walked far from wherever I started out this journey. When I try to think of how I even got into this situation, my memories are fuzzy.

Something draws me away from my panic. At first I don't know what it is, but then I realise the familiarity of the sound. Footsteps. The crunching of autumn leaves on the path a few yards from me. I look in the direction of the noise. Two women are walking along the path. They haven't seen me. I'm too still for them to notice. Then I hear smaller, faster steps getting closer to me. I turn my head in time to see a monstrous creature before me. It makes me jump and I'm about to yell when it turns to my shoe and starts licking it. Only a dog.

"Rexy!" One of the females calls. "Come on, boy."

I hear the other one gasp, "oh lord, is he dead?"

It takes me a couple of seconds to realise she's talking about me. It hadn't occurred to me how lifeless I must look right now. I wonder if I should call to them and ask for help. Maybe one of them is carrying water... oh God.

I open my mouth and try to croak out a response but I'm too frail to conceive any words. The dog has already got bored with me and he's walking away, back to the women. "Rex, come here. Let's go." They both turn away, one of them getting out Rex's lead. I come to the sad realisation that I must look pretty fucking scary. I shut my eyes. I feel tired- exhausted, even. It doesn't take long for me to slip out of consciousness.

*

When I awake, Roger is shaking me. His hands grip to my shoulders as if I am the only thing holding him up from a sheer drop into the ocean. His big, baby blue eyes are sad as he stares forwards, not really acknowledging me fully. His forehead shines underneath the wisps of sandy hair that blow around in the breeze in all different directions.

"We need to leave," he mumbles. His voice is raspy, like usual. But it's also low, deep and concerned as opposed to his normal high pitched squeak. He begins to spit out several reasons why we must go home, but I can't really focus on anything he's saying. Nothing makes sense. I'm cold and my clothes are damp from the morning dew and, although Roger is knelt right in front of me, I feel lost and alone.