Traintracks

1

*edited 09/16/2019

Your body is lead; stiff, and creaking as you wiggle your toes. Your hips and legs crack as you stretch them, the satisfaction gained from your actions short lived. Your stomach is cold, the surface you lay on hard, and you feel a burning in your chest.

You're so tired.

The fogginess in your head weighs you down. The crust in your eyes glues them shut. Your lungs rattle painfully. You can feel sunlight warm your eyelids, to the point where they burn; and there's a disconnect as you try and move your arms. The blood doesn't flow properly, your fingers are twitching against your command.

As if pulled by strings you roll up, vertebrae by vertebrae, till your head lifts from your chest.

Your brain can hardly focus on your surroundings, the crust in your eyes dig into your skin. You don't understand where you are, why the air is so crisp. You don't understand why you have a backpack in your lap. You don't understand why you feel so sore.

Your eyes stare but you don't process. Your ears hear but you don't listen. Your fingers touch but you don't feel. Your nose inhales but you don't smell. Your tongue rolls but you don't taste. Outside forces are there unprocessed. Until you snap into focus.

"Alright. We have'ta find out where the fuck we are."

You blink as you process the other two girls with you; who look as tired as you feel and a-hundred-ten times more stressed. The blonde is holding a mud-stained map, and the curly-haired one is rummaging around her own pack, muttering curses and tossing supplies.

"I think we're-"

"Oi, (Y/N), can I have some water?" she interrupts the blonde.

Your hand is reaching into your pack before you can understand, and you toss a drinking flask in her direction. The blonde looks up sharply from the map at the other girl's request.

"Glad to see you're awake," she says, smiling in your direction. "You were acting really funny earlier, we thought you were really sick."

"Now that you're awake," the curly haired one says, putting the flask back into your bag and clasping your shoulders, "You can finally get us the fuck out of here."

The map is placed on the ground in front of you, and curly hair points to a forested area.

"We managed to walk into here while you were fucky, and I think we headed here," she points to a general direction to the North-East. "Do the latitude-longitude bull to direct us, m'kay?"

...

This is not okay.

"I'm gonna be blunt with you," you look up from the paper. "I have no idea where we are, who the hell you are, and what the fuck is happening."

Their faces are hard to make out as you stare at them, waiting for the punch line to the prank you're not aware of. For a minute they meet your gaze, as if expecting something from you.

Then they start laughing.

They laugh slowly at first, soft and short, but as their laughter grows so does your confusion. It's by the time their faces are red and they're laughing like you told the best joke ever, that you feel bubbling in your chest.

"Hey this isn't funny."

They continue, tears streaming down their muddled faces.

Your chest boils.

Waking up in a forest with random girls that expect you to direct them someplace sounds like the start of a stupid dream.  Them dismissing your questions sound like a shitty fan-fiction.