TDR: Life as a Traveller

A Second Chance, Chapter 2

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*Thump*
Hm?
*Thump*
Am I dead? It feels so cold.
*Thump*
'A heart beat?'
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*Thump* *Thump*
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Time marched onwards alongside that rhythmic thump. I felt cold on the inside but warm on the outside. It was like my freezing body had been placed in a warm spring, however, I would only fell warm on my skin.

I was sure I died, and yet I was still felt things.

My sense of time was—how was it again? Ah, yes. What felt like a couple of minutes were only a couple of heartbeats.
After some time had passed, I began to feel more and I could feel myself move my cold body, except it also felt different somehow. I never felt the need to breathe, I never felt hungry, thirsty or uncomfortable. A particular thought came into my mind, that this was what heaven was, a state where you don't feel pain, where you never felt uncomfortable—simply existed, entirely satisfied.

But, it wasn't; in truth, it would be only the beginning of my own personal hell.
*Thump* *Thump*
Time marched on further.
Soon I felt the warmth surrounding me fading from my head first to my legs. Then, the voice that I heard on the night of my death, with a motherly tone, spoke, "Follow my voice, little ones. Let me clean you up."
I was unable to open my eyes to see what the voice belonged to, but that wasn't necessary, I knew full well what it was.

My body moved on its own—as if possessed—towards the voice. Then I felt it lick me; what I felt was rough like a cat's tongue, like wet sandpaper, but was the size of my whole body. An otherwordly feeling with an uncomfortable implication. I suspected before this moment, but I knew now what had happened. As unbelievable as it seemed, I was in the body of a newborn, and I was the newborn of the creature that killed me.
Even if it was the true reality I was faced with, I still couldn't accept it... how could I? How could I accept such absurdity? And how could I accept that... that thing was now my "mother"?
If I had accepted it, I had to accept that I would never see my family again. My life, my friends, all of it...
The only way I could cope was if I pushed it to one side—ignore it, ignore it all. It was all a fabrication of my slowly dying brain.
I started to believe it was all an illusion conjured up by my oxygen-starved brain, a full hallucination even. But days passed, and a feeling of true dread washed over me. It sunk deep into my heart as I came to realise it wasn't an illusion. And with this veil lifted, it soon became inevitable to deny reality.
I was dead.
My life was gone.
This was my own hell made real.

I was both blind and deaf, with the only exception being that thing's voice. I wasn't entirely sure how it communicated with me—I mean, I knew it had to be something other than sound, but how that was possible escaped me. Even though it was just an animal, I perfectly understood everything it said to me, it was even "English" to my mind, simply absurd in nearly every possible way. I constantly felt its presence and warmth as my uncontrollable body clung to it.

After those first few days, it made a change in its behaviour. It began to leave our side for a whole two hours every night. During those two hours, my brothers and sisters—whom I could only feel at that point—huddled together to keep warm. My body did the same, but I didn't mind, it was cold without it.

About two weeks had passed and I no longer had to rely on feeling anymore. I happened to be the first one to open my eyes. It was also around then that I could begin to hear. I could also control myself better.
Sure enough, the thing that was taking care of "me" was the very same creature that killed me. The same massive fox-like body with the same graceful behaviour in each and every moment it made.

It wasn't so much a revelation, since I had known from the beginning, it was more of a final sombre acceptance of everything. A sombre subconscious realisation as my new reality could now be seen and not just felt or assumed. There was no doubt left.