Well, I have to say that this is my first written work that I'm proud of in a while. Enjoy and criticize, but be mindful of the rating.
“Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.”
-Arthur Miller
It was only when the sun dipped below the horizon and the bloodstained sky turned a darker blue when I began to fear for my life.
There was a long period of clamor and disorder above my head as the birds retreated from the night into the coziness of their domain, and I found no relief in knowing that the riverbanks grew to be just as dark as the floor of the rainforest nearby.
There was no place here where I felt safe. I could barely identify the rips in my own clothing and the deep cuts in my skin, and if I retreated into the forest floor I would be blind.
So here I was, made conspicuous by the fact that I was the only man sitting by river, ankle deep in water, slow-moving and green.
As hard as I tried, I could not sleep. I tried using my backpack as a pillow and I curled up atop the silt-covered ground. I moved around frequently, and it was during this period of discomfort when I realized that I was being watched.
I saw his dark eyes peer in my direction from the other side of the wide river, watchful and patient. I assumed that he knew that I noticed him, but for what seemed like a very long time, we stared at each other. I grew increasingly afraid of this man, or creature (there was not enough light at the time to tell what he was exactly), and on several occasions I fought the urge to run away aimlessly into the dense cover of forest.
At first, his eyes were all I saw of him. But, just as mine, they never moved, and I never noticed him blink. After a while of this, I tried to make out the rest of his being. I started with his luminous eyes, and I concentrated hard enough to be able to see his entire head. He was a native, without a doubt. He had black skin and long, black hair that hung over and around his stern face. His lips were swelled, and his mouth never moved.
And after much anxious time had pressed on, he disappeared.
My thinking of what to do next did not yield any productive thoughts. If I remained silent along the river, I would stand out and this indigenous man would likely consume my brains the next morning. If I retreated into the thick of the forest, I would be lost, blind, and susceptible to the creature just as easily.
He would devour me, just as the other cannibals disposed of the rest of my crew, quickly and without hesitation. Readers of the Portland Chronicle would have to wait for the article concerning species diversity in the Amazon.
Amidst all of my desperate and racing thought, I must have calmed down, because I fell asleep and did not awake until morning. The sun was not high, yet already my chest and forehead were sweating because of the detestable humidity.
I slung my pack over my shoulder and walked into the lowest level of the rainforest, hoping to somehow dodge my predator if I did not stop walking.
I navigated through bogs, dry spots between the trees, and cut through vines for hours without any sign of the savage. At last, I came to an area where two trees had fallen and light came through from above them. Mosses had grown on the bark of the fallen trees, and shrubs and other small plants thrived in this spot of sunlight, which was only about two or three square meters in size. I chose to rest here for maybe an hour, and then I would have to find my way to another stream or clearing before I fell asleep.
I had run out of all the food that was with me on the expedition two days ago. It was only logic that told me to try eating leaves and the rare berry that I may find. Unfortunately, I was led to assume that something that I was eating was not edible, because about a half hour after consuming whatever I could find, I regurgitated all of it back.
The trees extended maybe hundreds of feet high, piercing the heavens with the uppermost twigs. My death was imminent, in a place where resources are the most abundant in the world. All because of the fact that I was a stupid American, trained to grow ignorant of the world and its ways. Perhaps this was why I had led such a dissatisfactory life prior. Even my last love left me because I was not ambitious and I was unsure of what it was that I really wanted. No one ever told me that it was easy to conquer my own heart.
There was some sort of a marsh that had developed near the fallen trees. It could not have been more than two feet deep, yet small fishes swam around inside it, underneath the green moss and algae that created thin mats at the surface. I leaned with my back against a nearby tree, and realized that if there were fishes in this marsh, there must be more fresh water nearby.
Despite my insightful discovery, I was still sick, so I slowly stood up and slung my pack over my shoulder, took my knife into my right hand, and moved forward.
It never occurred to me that I was actually at a rather high elevation until I noticed the trees getting shorter and the terrain steeper. Finally, I found a place where the rainwater accumulated and eventually ran down the steep slope as a stream. I followed it down until it rushed, rapidly and clear, down smoothed rocks.
The water washed the blood and dirt from my skin, and I drank the godly liquid like an animal, and shoved my face into a spot where the water was almost a foot deep. The cleanliness of this water sent fulfillment and ecstasy to my dying heart, and it made me long for a waterfall to bathe under.
I would have to follow this river down to a clearing, because I guessed that it was about five in the evening, and the sun was setting fast. Not feeling as sick, I was able to keep a swift pace along the stream, which widened as I moved along.
About six days ago, my crew was attacked maybe a few miles from where I was now. Most of us were sleeping at the camp where we took on a beach by a large lake, when we were suddenly surrounded by primitive black men with spears and knives of rock. If this had happened during the day, fighting them off would have been no problem with our guns, but most of us were not aware of this attack until those on watch for the night were dead. We all left our tents when we heard a scream. The member of our crew who was at watch for the night was stabbed through the back with a long knife that came through the front of his belly. He choked on his blood, black and viscous, and his eyes were popping out from his head. Finally, the indigenous man behind him slashed his knife through the rest of his victim’s body, cutting him in half on the right side of his spine. The man’s intestines began to spill out and fall dead on the ground, and his blood travelled through midair streams in all directions. Finally, the attacker let go of the dead body, leaving it to fall on the sand.
The rest of the crew was bewildered and disturbed enough by this incident that they were helpless once the rest of the tribe began attacking us in the same manner, one by one. They were an unstoppable force, and cut through every human being they touched. All of the attackers were men, and a number of women came from behind them and began eating at the flesh of those already dead.
Still to this day, I do not know why and how I was the lone survivor of this ambush. I ran into the forest, only skinned by a spear where my left shoulder met my back. I ran until the pain in my back became unbearable, and I collapsed on the wet ground, cut several times against the sharp rocks.
That was how these indigenous attacked. They came close quietly, and then ripped you apart. This was the manner in which I was attacked walking along the stream.
I heard something quiet, like someone running quickly and lightly on the clay-covered streambed. I didn’t have the time to turn my head back all the way before the savage leaped on top of me and brought me down. I could feel the ground as I went down, and I was sure that a stray rock had broken my lower jaw. I sill had enough energy left in me to instinctively elbow my attacker in the face, and he let go of me as he flew back a few feet.
The two of us lay there, bleeding and moaning, until we took out our knives simultaneously. Now I had the advantage, for I leaped upon him before he could move, and I aimed a stab at his ribs, which missed because he rolled to one side. The knife instead slashed his upper back, and he let out a savage cry. However, he quickly regained his strength and stabbed me in the hp. I slowly crawled back from him, breathing faster than the sun was setting behind me.
The stream flowed steadily, being fed by the soaking pellets of rain. I spit out salty blood and clutched my hip as I moved away from my attacker, who was also recovering. Animals and birds all around us cried at the sights and smells of near death, and the birds repeated their nightly routine of bellowing in the air before returning to their hospitable homes. The sorrowful monkeys and lizards that thrived during the daytime fled into the trees in fear of being consumed by the darkness of death.
And so we were, my enemy and I, lying on the warm Amazon ground two meters from each other, crying in anguish. My stomach pained me, and begged me for food. I looked around me for food of any sort, and found nothing. I was starving to death in a supermarket, a stupid man with no knowledge of the world outside of his snug America.
And then, the excitement lit inside of me. All of the pain in my body was pushed aside as I found the strength to sit up. The indigenous man was attempting to do the same without much success. I revealed a triumphant smile, and slowly got on my feet, putting most of my weight on my uninjured leg.
I could walk with a limp, and so I slowly made my way back to my prey, jumped on top of him, and stabbed him in the chest and ribs repeatedly. He cried with every stab and his shaking hand that held his long knife fell to the ground and let go its weapon.
I could feel that my face looked formidable and all of the blood in my body rushed into my arms which tore this helpless man apart. I cut his stomach open, leaving his intestines to crawl out of his being, and blood to launch itself into my face.
I used my knife to cut his eyeballs out from his head, and then I ate them. I cut open the center of his ribcage, which exposed his heart and lungs. I ripped out the heart -still moving- from its body, and I took a bite from it, and yet the various muscles which led that heart to function were still in motion in my hand.
Finally, I cut the man’s genitals from his body and threw them into the hasted river. He was a man no more, and a man whose race had eaten the flesh of my people, my ignorant kind, was now emasculated, dead.
With blood dripping from my face and chest, I began to eat the flesh of my prey, and feasted through the night until I fell asleep.
I finally conquered my heart, wrestled my soul to the ground and tied it up. The experience of something new, something so disgusting but extraordinary, it filled my lungs. For the resistance of the convenience of failure is not an abomination.
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