Taken Between The Jaws

 

The day’s events

 

Samuel Fletcher awoke with a flurry of bedsprings. It was 5:20 A.M. on a Saturday. He had been having troubles sleeping. In the comfort of his room there had always been the desire to stay awake. To sleep, as he understood it, was to reveal an essence of weakness. The night before had been like the others: full of the company of others: loud, tyrannical, hectic: unhappy. The insincerity of the smiles never impacted him while he was out with friends because his own insincerity was the same, if not greater, and he knew it, and he knew they knew it. Hanging out at his friends’ house was habitual, part of him. When he returned home, even following the influx of smiles and positivity, he still felt malnourished.

He had been having a dream of his friend Ty and The Guy In Corduroys, where they all had been walking together through a black and onstretching canvas. Ty and Samuel had known each other since pre-school, and yet it wasn’t until last year—seventh grade—that Ty started changing. There was a glint of evil in Ty’s eyes that came about ever since he began associating with The Guy In Corduroys. He was always with a group of girls that wanted nothing to do with Samuel, and so Samuel had had to find a new group of friends. Then, whenever Samuel saw Ty in the hallways, it became awkward, and The Guy In Corduroys had an unrelenting stare….

Samuel’s house was empty throughout the day because his mom and dad worked nine-to-five and beyond to maintain the upkeep of the house. They even worked on weekends. So that’s why Samuel found himself so free to gather the materials for his journey, so at liberty to exit the backdoors, to find those roaming gates and unfurl the journey for himself. For Samuel it was a giant step from out of his comfort zone, to delve without contemplation into that uncommon personless mess of nature. And yet his body told him to go, and it is the body which knows what’s best for the body. He had decided it was time to undergo some sort of variation in his life, and he was prepared by far to leap into that realm of knowledge of which he knew he wanted to be a part. He felt, in a hunger of the heart, a desire to indulge in the marrow-scraps of the mountains, to go hiking.

He put in his backpack a water bottle, a bag of trail mix, a jacket, a sandwich, a book and a pen: he was ready to satiate that hunger which he did not yet know existed. He left all of his electronics at home, and set out to live in deliberation, if for even a moment. There was nothing to hold him back as he made the first step into the plush and delicate grass. The sun had recently come out of dormancy, and it greeted him with enthusiasm. Light filled his eyes and he breathed the crystalline air, and the poison that had been once in his lungs escaped with immediacy.

 





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