If Only She'd Loved Him

Saturday 7:26 pm

Megan felt good.  She felt so much better than she had before.  Then, she had been cold, so cold and so wet, but now, now, she was starting to feel better.  Her heart was beating a mile a millisecond.  She was definitely warmer.  So warm in fact that she thought about taking off her first sweatshirt.  It's ugly anyway, she said to herself, pulling it off her shoulders.  The sweatshirt lay in a pile on the ground. A big ugly lump, she decided.  Maybe I could pretend it's a campfire. She laid her flashlight shining on top of it.  That's it!  It's a fire, and if I dance around it I'll get even warmer.  Whoop, Whoop, I am dancing to the fire god, Whoop, Whoop!  The fire-god needs more, she decided.  She pulled off  her second sweatshirt.  It clung to her, refusing to go over her head easily, but she got it off.  The last sweatshirt she was wearing was the biggest, the sleeves flapped on her arms.  I've got wings, she smiled, flapping her arms.  Who! Who!  Now I'm an owl, a big flying owl.  I'm going to flap my wings and fly away!  Who! Who! she called.  Nothing answered her.  Megan shivered.  Her skin wouldn't stop moving below her clothes, but she ignored it. I'm an owl.  Owls like the woods, she told herself sternly.  They aren't afraid of what's out there.  She began to run around the pile of sweatshirt in a circle, faster, and faster until she tripped, collapsing on the ground.  I'm a tired owl, she thought, laying her head on the shirts. I'm a very tired owl.  She closed her eyes in the cold. 

The snap of a branch jumped her awake.  Oh God, was that Erik?  Fighting to clear her head, she saw the wet sweatshirts lying in a pile in front of her.  Odd as it was, she really did feel warmer now that she wasn't wearing them.  The clothes she still had on were dry.  Her fingers flew to her mouth, but no sound came out.  What good would it do for her to scream?  If he was tracking her, then he would know right where she was.  Her hands beat against her thighs.  How could she have let herself fall asleep?  What had happened to her?  Move, I need to keep moving, she reminded herself. Reaching down, she picked up the flashlight.  Her mind still felt a little odd, confused, uncertain, but her feet started walking immediately.  Shivering, she took a step, shiver then step, shiver then step, shiver and step.  Megan got used to the pattern.  Her fingertips felt numb so she burrowed her hands back under her final sweatshirt, sliding the flashlight out from under it.  The rain sounded different to her now, stronger, louder.  Was it coming back? She cocked her ear towards the sound.  If it was, it was coming off to her side.  The rush of water as the creek overflowed onto its banks was so beautiful that she began to cry.  Tears warm on her face, she ran to the stream.