《Moon Adrift》 Preface The nightmares had come and gone, leaving me feeling as though I were a hollow cedar tree. We used to play around the one behind my house. One day, we got our fathers to put a swing up above a tall branch. We¡¯d take turns pushing each other higher and higher. Those days felt like they would go on forever. When I would look into his face and see him smiling back at me. Always, I looked forward to tomorrow, pondering what new ways we would have fun with what little was around us. Once we started high-school I feared we would part ways. Some friends did that. Not us. He was genuine. A guy you only meet once in your life. The type that doesn¡¯t let peer-pressure or trends dictate his motives, nor thoughts. His soul was his own. You couldn¡¯t buy it. You couldn¡¯t steal it. And for a time, I thought it belonged to me. Selfish, I know. Maybe somewhat stupid. But that¡¯s who I was. The moon to the shining sun. The sun was blonde, with curly hair that felt soft to ruffle up in playful roughhousing. The moon was narrow, in many ways smaller to the radiance that shone down. You couldn¡¯t part them. Even on days when the sun rose up high above the sky, you would catch glimpses of the moon, never far behind. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. That¡¯s why it took us all by surprise. It was unexpected. You live all your life thinking the sun will shine long after you are gone. Yet that¡¯s not what happened. I wasn¡¯t prepared. How could I be? But instead of it hitting me all at once, I slowly descended into darkness that carried with it a crushing weight. Before I knew it I was unable to move. Stuck in place, unwilling even to take flight. It was Bleak. Lifeless. Looking back, I don¡¯t think I could have stopped it. Perhaps I had seen the signs. The dimming of the sun¡¯s smile, the hesitance to reciprocate jests, but in truth, I only saw what I wanted to see. The nightmares had come and gone, leaving me to look out at the dead cedar tree that stood alone behind the house. The seat in class that remained empty for the rest of the days I went to school. The dim light of my cellphone¡¯s screen, where the name of the sun still remained, unable to hear the voice I got lost in every day. The voice of the one I had come to love like a brother. I was all that was left now. A lone moon only daring to show itself at night, the only world I would know a shell of what once had been. A world with no light, nor warmth. Eventually, I found myself in the darkness of my room looking up at the ceiling only to realize that after all the suffering and grief, there was still no answer to my question. If you had to go¡­ Why couldn¡¯t we have gone together? Chapter 1 - Wake-up Call June 21st, 2024 8:00 AM The sound of the alarm would have roused anyone by now, but even after what felt like ten straight minutes of blaring next to my ear I just couldn¡¯t muster the will to get up and go to class. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. Groaning, I finally reach out an arm and slap the top to make it stop. Shuffling to stand I nearly slip on the ground where my sheets lay but manage to catch myself on the desk adjacent to the bed. All of this while my eyes are closed, and my face has taken on a foul grimace. Ambling into the bathroom just a few steps away I turn on the sink and rub at my crusty eyes. My hair is matted and despite having just got up I already look dog tired. Today would have been a good day to skip class again, if not to just to get a few more hours of sleep, but this morning I¡¯ve got an English midterm and if I miss it that might be the last straw with the school regarding my attendance. It wouldn¡¯t be the first warning¡­ As I brush my teeth begrudgingly the sight of the nearly spent tube of paste makes me close my eyes again. I don¡¯t relish the idea of making a trip out to restock on necessities. Every day is the same. Just another reminder that I¡¯m a fuck up. I hate going out there, where all that happens is I display myself for the world to gawk at. It hasn¡¯t all been bad, though. Spending half a year away from the folks back home gave me the chance to claim some peace and quiet, but once they find out how my college life went to shit I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll take it well¡­ Regardless, that¡¯s a problem for another day. I turn my pants inside out, put on new underwear, and bring an arm up to smell at my pits before dressing up again. Yup¡­ Definitely need a new shirt, too. Taking a shower is a pain in the ass, so I end up blowing more on laundry than on shampoo and soap, but it¡¯s been over two weeks since I did either. Putting on my worn coat, I grab the keys and a pen as I make to leave. A dorm room costs a ton these days, but I¡¯m not the one paying it. Mom and dad made like bandits back when they were my age but now the economy is so fucked that I can¡¯t justify taking on a job that would pay me a fraction of what it would have paid my parents. Times have changed. We have retards and psychopaths in charge of the world, and everyone is just going through the motions. The average person is so dumb they can¡¯t agree on anything. Earlier in the year someone made a joke that I would shoot up the college, that I had that look about me. I chuckled wryly at it then, but thinking about it now actually makes me depressed. I know I¡¯m an asshole, but I¡¯m not evil. I just want to be left alone. Since I left the comfort of my room back at my parent¡¯s place, I guess that¡¯s just too much to ask for. The walk to the main building on campus takes about 5 minutes. The hallways are empty most of the time, but unfortunately I have to pass through the cafeteria on my way. I try hard to look down and avoid as much attention as possible, but it happens anyway. ¡°Hey! Bishop! You¡¯re out of your cave!¡± exclaims a voice far too excited for how early in the morning it is. Looking back at the girl trotting towards me, I internally roll my eyes. She stops in front of me and punches my shoulder lightly as if we¡¯ve been friends since elementary school. I want to punch her back, but my idea behind it is a lot different than hers. ¡°Mornin¡¯ Cordelia.¡± I reply somewhat flatly. Her smile makes me frustrated. It¡¯s as if she doesn¡¯t read my body-language on purpose, which pisses me off. ¡°You ready for the exam? I didn¡¯t study at all, ha-ha.¡± she says, swaying her hips with her arms behind her back. What the fuck does she want from me? I seriously don¡¯t get it. ¡°Did you need something?¡± I ask her pointedly. I¡¯m not sure how tense the look on my face is, but I¡¯m trying to give off the hint that I¡¯m busy and not in the mood for conversation. She bites her lip for a moment before asking me the stupidest thing ever. ¡°Wanna come to the afterschool party? Me and a couple of others are going tonight. There¡¯ll be beer and stuff. It should be fun! Come on, let¡¯s get you out more, okay?¡± In all my 20 years of life I¡¯ve never been to a party, I¡¯ve never had a sleepover, and I¡¯ve never kissed a girl. I¡¯m not in a rush to change any of that. I get what she wants. I¡¯m the loner who doesn¡¯t talk to anyone, and she either feels sorry for me or she would find it a great personal victory to get me to pretend I¡¯m having fun. The truth is, I don¡¯t want anything to do with Cordelia Mason, and I can tell her friend group finds it a mutual sentiment as I look over at them behind her sitting on the table she just came from. None of the girls are looking at me. Their phones are more interesting. The guys don¡¯t smile or nod or nothing. Quite the contrary¨C I can see a scowl forming on one of their faces. The unspoken words are clear enough to me. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Fuck off ¡°Nah. I have plans tonight anyway. See you at the exam.¡± I lie and begin walking away before she can object. There¡¯s a muffled sigh behind me. I know she¡¯s disappointed, but that¡¯s not my problem. If I did go the only thing I could count on is that I¡¯d be suffering the whole time. I don¡¯t drink. I don¡¯t smoke. And I would get jabbed for it. Imagine that. My biggest crime is being a loner, but apparently that would be okay if I smoked dope all day like some kind of addict. No, thank you. *** June 21st, 2024 11:32 AM Locking the door behind me I throw my keys on the desk and plop on my bed. The test went about as good as I thought it would, which means I likely failed. Not that I¡¯m torn up about it or anything. I didn¡¯t even study. The important thing now is avoiding a call from my folks. Turning on my PC, I decide to play some video games. I haven¡¯t had fun playing anything for months now, but it is a time killer. As I¡¯m about to pick up the controller I hear something that catches me by surprise. The sound of my cellphone receiving a call. Bringing it up I see who¡¯s calling and can¡¯t help but curse. ¡°Hey pops. How¡¯s it going?¡± ¡°Bishop. How¡¯s school? How are things on your end?¡± dad asks me. ¡°Oh, you know. Same as usual. I just got back from an exam but I don¡¯t think it went very well.¡± There¡¯s a pause before my father speaks again. ¡°¡­ Did you study? Are you passing your courses?¡± Here we go again¡­ ¡°Uh¡­ Actually, things aren¡¯t the best right now. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m cut out for this to tell you the truth.¡± I know what¡¯s going to happen. He¡¯s going to get all mad and start calling me a dumbass. I¡¯ve heard it all before. Dad is all bark and no bite. ¡°What do you mean? You¡¯re failing?¡± dad asks, an edge to his voice now. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but that might be the case. Besides, what am I even supposed to do with a history degree? I don¡¯t see myself becoming a teacher.¡± I can hear him getting ready to lay it on me. He¡¯s working himself up huffing and puffing his chest and probably clenching his teeth right now. I couldn¡¯t care less. ¡°¡­ Okay.¡± Wait, what? ¡°Okay, son.¡± he tells me, no anger in his voice but what sounds like resignation. I¡¯m relieved for just a moment before he crushes my expectations. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to have to do this to you, but we¡¯re done. I can¡¯t help you for as much as I try.¡± A shiver goes down my spine, and I¡¯m not sure why. He explains it to me in a way I can¡¯t misinterpret. ¡°Your mother and I aren¡¯t wasting another cent on you. Once your semester is done you¡¯re on your own. I¡¯d look for a job if I were-¡° ¡°Woah, come on dad, there¡¯s no need for that!¡± I try cutting him off, but he continues as if he hadn¡¯t heard me. ¡°-you. Bishop Browne, you¡¯re a grown ass man. That means you¡¯ve got adult responsibilities to take care of, and if you can¡¯t handle that, then that¡¯s on you. Not us.¡± I want to scream at him and tell him to fuck off, but then I realize something. Mom wouldn¡¯t let him get away with this kind of shit. I hang up on the geezer and dial her number. She picks up before the 2nd beep. ¡°Mom! Listen, dad¡¯s acting cra-¡° but she cuts me off. ¡°No. I¡¯m not going to let you have your way this time. Bishop, you¡¯re old enough to take care of yourself. I¡¯m sorry, but we¡¯ve tried to help you and you keep running away. I know you¡¯re hurting about what happened to him¡­ but you have to move on now.¡± There¡¯s a sharp jolt of pain running across my chest for an instant before I realize what¡¯s likely happening right now. They¡¯re both trying to scare me straight. I¡¯m certain of it. ¡°They¡¯re hiring at the local caf¨¦ shop, maybe you shou-¡° Hanging up on mom before she could finish, I¡¯m stunned at their audacity. It feels as though they just threw cold water on my face, leaving me with a nasty scowl. They don¡¯t give a fuck about how I feel. Did they ever? Sitting there on the chair in front of my desk with my monitor turned on, looking at nothing, it had been a while since I felt this alone. But I guess I should have expected this day would come. How dare they go there? To just bring that up as some kind of leverage¡­ I could feel warmth slipping down my face. Usually, our fights end up unresolved. Just more bitter memories to share in our dysfunctional family. That¡¯s not what makes me leak¡­ I get what she means, but it doesn¡¯t matter anymore. Excuses are all that come out of my mouth. I lie or gaslight to get my way. I sidestep responsibility. And worst of all, I feel no urge or desire to change. Maybe I hate myself. Maybe I hate the world I¡¯ve been born into. Maybe I just want to die. They know why I feel this way, but we all pretend to ignore it because it¡¯s easier. The hurt is less brutal. Yet, as I hear the cellphone¡¯s messages pinging out constantly from what is clearly my folks trying to get me to give it up before hurling a few more insults about my immaturity, I don¡¯t bother picking up. Most people might do it. They might accept they¡¯re done being lazy and just get on with their lives, but I¡¯m too stubborn. Instead, I go to my bank account and see how much I¡¯ve got left to work with. On the account it says I¡¯ve got close to $554. That might be enough for some people to move to a different state and start fresh, but I couldn¡¯t pull that off. It¡¯s not even noon yet and I already feel that hollow aching in my chest that usually comes around every few days to remind me I¡¯m just stalling for time. When I was a teenager, I used to play video games all day long with a friend. Before I knew it, morning turned to night. As I pick up the controller and try to imagine those days again, I want to burst out screaming, but somehow I don¡¯t have the energy for it. Booting up a zombie game to mindlessly occupy myself, I just sit there on my chair looking like one of the things I¡¯m shooting in the head. I have bags under my eyes, my mouth is slightly ajar, and my breathing sounds irregular. After who knows how long, I notice the room is getting darker from the sun leaving the horizon. I move to lay on my bed without even turning anything off. If monsters were hiding under the wooden frame, I would genuinely ask them to grab my legs and pull me under. It¡¯s days like these that make me realize I don¡¯t need nightmares. I¡¯m already living one. The tears that flow down my face to wet my pillow come without so much as a whimper. I don¡¯t have it in me to make it known how much pain I am in. What would even happen? Nothing. Nobody is listening, and even if they were, they wouldn¡¯t do a thing. I¡¯ll be on my own for the rest of my worthless life. Chapter 2 - Insecurity June 21st, 2024 8:00 AM The alarm¡¯s sudden blaring makes me jolt upwards in surprise. Typically I would be inclined to sleep in, but I find my nerves are on edge this morning. It takes me a bit to recall what happened yesterday, which makes me deflate by the second. I¡¯ve got at best a couple of weeks before my residence at the dorms is up, and I already know I¡¯m not going to stay until then. There¡¯s class in the morning, but the cat is already out of the bag, so I¡¯ll be absent for the rest of the semester. What¡¯s the point of keeping up the charade now, right? I think about getting breakfast, but then something else dawns on me. No matter how I look at it, I have to go back to live with my folks. The idea makes my stomach twist with shame. I don¡¯t want to be anywhere near them right now, or even in a few months. They told me I had to start acting like a man. That I need to earn my own way. In this city, in this world, where a few decades ago it was still possible, but they¡¯re so fucking out of touch they don¡¯t realize even if I worked a job it wouldn¡¯t even cover rent on a single bedroom flat. They probably think we¡¯re still in the 1980s, for fuck¡¯s sake. Making my way to the bathroom to wash my face and try to shake off this building frustration, I manage to trip on my own feet and fall in front of the door with a thud. Eek! A weird high-pitched sound from on the other side of the entrance to my unit catches my attention. It makes me stop for a second. ¡°¡­ Cordelia?¡± I ask hesitantly. There¡¯s a bit of shuffling before she knocks on the door. I get up but stop before touching the knob. Why should I open it? Wait, that¡¯s not the weirdest thing. Why is she even here? ¡°What are you doing here?¡± I ask with more than a bit of skepticism. She seems a bit put out but eventually answers my question. ¡°Alright, look. Your folks told me to check up on you and I was waiting for you to get up but didn¡¯t want to wake you so I just decided to wait out here until you did!¡± she tells me, a little too quickly. That makes zero sense. Why would Cordelia know my folks? ¡°What are you talking about? Why would you be in contact with them?¡± There are a few moments of silence before she gives up and tells me, but I¡¯ve got a feeling by then. ¡°Our parents know each other, didn¡¯t you know? They went here when they were young, too.¡± So, my folks have been using Cordelia to keep tabs on me and to make sure they had justification to kick my ass to the curb. That¡¯s the reason she¡¯s always bothering me. Why she is always coming up to me and asking to hang out or talk about stupid shit. It was never out of a sense of concern or nothing. It was just to keep an eye on me. ¡°¡­ You¡¯ve been spying on me? Pretending to be friendly just so you could report to them about what I¡¯ve been doing?¡± Cordelia gasps and quickly backpedals. ¡°What? No! I really do want to be friends! It¡¯s just that they¡¯re worried and called me to check up on you because you weren¡¯t answering their messages!¡± I should have found it odd how they always seemed to have me cornered anytime we had an argument. Maybe I¡¯m a piece of shit for always trying to duck away from responsibility, but they had this bitch keeping an eye on me since when? Since I got here? Fucking hell¡­ ¡°Bishop, open the door. Please? I just want to talk¡­¡± That does it. I¡¯m done with everyone¡¯s shit. I need to take some time for myself, as ironic as that is given I¡¯ve been a filthy NEET since high school. I get what my situation looks like to an outsider, but if everything were so easy I would have already gotten out of this depression. ¡°No. Just leave me alone already. I have nothing to say to any of you.¡± She¡¯s clearly frustrated as I hear her shuffle on the other side of the door, but I don¡¯t know how else to put it. If she doesn¡¯t leave, I¡¯m not going to bother sugar coating it. ¡°Bishop! Please just come out, okay? Nothing is going to change if you keep holed up in your room all day!¡± she says, pleading as if she actually gives a shit. Of course, this has nothing to do with me personally. Everything she says, does, and thinks about is always actually about her image. Like most girls, Cordelia loves attention, and she¡¯s not above being pretentious to get it. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. I¡¯m not in the mood for her bullshit. I¡¯ve been putting up with her for long enough. It¡¯s time to get this over with. ¡°So if I come out you¡¯ll be happy?¡± I ask her. ¡°Yeah! If you¡¯d just come with me and hang out a bit I¡¯m sure we can get you the help you need! I know how bad you must feel being alone all the time so please, let me help you.¡± I can¡¯t help but scowl involuntarily. ¡°You want me to get out more? Is that it?¡± ¡°Bishop, I know you don¡¯t want anyone to bother you, but if you¡¯d just let me help you I know we could be good friends!¡± she tells me, hopeful. ¡°You don¡¯t want to help me. All you want is to hear the sound of your own fucking voice. Can¡¯t you take a hint? I don¡¯t want to be your friend, you dumb bitch!¡± There¡¯s a pause and I can¡¯t hear a sound, but she breaks the silence promptly with a completely different tone to the one she¡¯s been using so far. ¡°Take that back.¡± I don¡¯t fucking think so. ¡°Take what back?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like the sound of my own voice, Bishop. Take it back!¡± she demands. ¡°You could have fooled me. All day all you do is yap away until you get your way. What, is the attention of the whole fucking school not good enough? Do you have to frig yourself in front of everyone before you¡¯re satisfied?¡± I snarl all my frustration out at her. A moment or two go by, as if she¡¯s considering something. Then she tells me how she really feels. ¡°¡­ Bishop? I think you¡¯re the biggest fucking loser on campus. I don¡¯t know why I thought I should involve myself with a filthy freak like you. And you know what? It¡¯s not like anyone would even give a shit if you fucking killed yourself.¡± Cordelia tells me with venomous intent. It catches me by surprise, leaving her with the final word. Despite her clear contempt, I can hear Cordelia sobbing as she runs away. ¡­ Good riddance. *** June 27th, 2024 7:14 PM It¡¯s been nearly a week since I last spoke to anyone and the fridge is looking kind of empty. I¡¯ve got a bottle of ketchup, two sodas, and a small bag of chips. I¡¯m going to have to make a trip down to the local convenience store, it looks like. The last time I took a shower was¡­ Oh man. When was it? Three? Four weeks ago? Groaning, I close the fridge door and try to imagine what I could get away with ignoring today. I don¡¯t want to do anything or talk to anyone, obviously, but if I don¡¯t take a shower I can only imagine the unwanted attention from people I pass. I wish I were invisible. At least then I would be able to go out without a care in the world. Unfortunately, the only superpower I have is self-destruction. It¡¯s not like I¡¯ll be out for long, so I decide on just going really quick and coming back. Picking up my jacket and keys, I¡¯m out the door. Walking out the residence I¡¯m nearly outside of campus when I hear some noise off to my right. Looking over, I notice a group pointing in my direction. ¡°Oh shit! Look, he¡¯s out of his cave!¡± said one of the guys. ¡°Gross. Don¡¯t let him touch you, I bet he¡¯s contagious.¡± another girl joins in. I wouldn¡¯t pay much attention to this if it wasn¡¯t for one thing that makes me freeze. Cordelia Mason is in the middle looking at me with an expression of pure and utter disdain. Her sunny smile might as well have never existed because once I look her in the eyes, she looks back at me as if I¡¯ve always been walking shit. As she makes to leave, her group follows, laughing and jabbing at me before they make it far enough away, leaving me to find myself. For a couple of moments I just stood there like a deer in headlights. With the feeling of an anxiety attack gaining momentum, my first impulse I get is to just run back to my place, but then I wouldn¡¯t have anything to eat. The best thing to do right now is to just go to the convenience store and return home as soon as possible. I¡¯ve never really had any enemies, but I can tell I¡¯ve got some now. Despite how evasive I can be, I feel oddly vulnerable at this very moment. I¡¯ve never really been bullied. No more than anyone else with passing jabs and snarky comments, but leaving my room today feels like a mistake. It takes me a few minutes on shaky legs to make it to the convenience store a few blocks away. In all the time since I¡¯d left my room I haven¡¯t given a single thought to what I was supposed to get. It isn¡¯t a comfortable feeling knowing they might have followed me here and could corner me somewhere to really get me back for what I said to Cordelia. Looking to my left I notice I¡¯m inside and see the glass door where the sodas are. I give myself a once-over. I¡¯m shorter than even most of the girls. At just below 4 foot 10 inches, I¡¯m not intimidating at all. My sedentary lifestyle shows as my arms are skinny and my frame is narrow. My eyes are baggy, and my hair is even more of a mess than it was a week ago. I haven¡¯t bothered to take care of myself at all, and looking down at my hands I see my nails are longer than they should be. Unable to stomach any more, I turn away in disgust. I¡¯ve always thought my prospects would be rather limited due to my height, but aside from that I still feel so downtrodden all the time... I¡¯m not even sure where I could possibly look to muster up some confidence, either. I feel like a lost cause. I wasn¡¯t always this insecure¡­ After a few minutes I end up just getting peanuts, some water, and a box of cup-noodles. This would last most people a few days, but it lasts me a week. It¡¯s enough for what I¡¯ve started to consider since I spoke with my parents, and after this little wake-up call I¡¯m all too certain about it. The cashier gives me a sneer as I pay for my stuff. Looking up at his gaunt face we have a silent understanding. I know I smell like rancid shit, and he knows I couldn¡¯t give a fuck what he thinks. With my heart racing the whole time I¡¯m outside, I feel relief as I finally make it back to my room. Grabbing my backpack from under the bed I throw it on the desk. The empty notebook within is going to come in handy for what I¡¯m planning. Turning on my PC I surf the web to find what I¡¯m looking for. Picking up my Pen, I write some steps as I begin the preparations. I¡¯m leaving this shithole and going away for a month-long camping trip in the eastern mountains of Seattle. I¡¯ve had enough of other people and I don¡¯t want to put up with this shit anymore. The sooner I get out of this place, the better. Chapter 3 - Preparations June 28th, 2024 1:36 PM The local hardware store didn¡¯t have much, but after some looking around I eventually found what I needed. Off the top of my head, I buy a portable stove with some extra fuel. Bringing dozens of pounds of food is a pain, so I figure a fishing rod will suit me just fine to catch something out there. From just looking online at the big lakes surrounding the mountains, I know there¡¯s going to be plenty of opportunities for picking up fishing and it¡¯s making me excited. The last time I felt giddy about anything was¡­ Shit. When was it? Anyway, I feel it right now. I¡¯m not stupid enough to think it¡¯ll be easy, but I¡¯m more than willing to learn if it means some peace and quiet. They say patience is a fisherman¡¯s most useful tool, and not to toot my own horn but I¡¯ve been plenty patient with everyone despite the shit they give me. What I¡¯m most looking forward to is the scenery, however. Out there it¡¯s just you, some birds, and the trees. Maybe a few bugs, but there¡¯s a price for everything. Another thing I think to buy is hiking boots because my regular running shoes would get ruined after a few days of the trudging I plan on doing. This is the first time I¡¯ve ever done anything like this on my own, but my folks said it themselves. I¡¯m a grown ass man now. I get to make grown ass man decisions. So I¡¯ve decided to get away from it all. Doesn¡¯t sound much different from usual, I know, but it is. I can¡¯t think in this room. I can¡¯t even get up in the morning to go to class. I feel too drained by everything and everyone around me. It feels as though I¡¯m being pulled along a slow but thick river towards a waterfall that goes nowhere. I need a change of environment or my head will only keep going in circles. Out there I¡¯ll have to get up if I want to eat. I¡¯ll have to take in nature and accept where I am. Who knows? Maybe I finally accept my circumstances and shake my depression for good. If nothing else, I could seriously use the change of pace to spice things up. ¡°That¡¯ll be $364.64.¡± the cashier tells me as she bags my things while putting a hand to her nose. Walking out the store I count myself just short of $200. Not too bad. I managed to buy a knife, a pair of hiking shoes, a portable stove, a fishing rod with some bait to go with it, and even a rucksack to store everything. I know I¡¯m missing a few things, but I¡¯ve got enough of the essentials checked off my list that I¡¯m not too worried about it. Back home I put everything together and see how it feels as I putter about in my small room. Everything is very snug and doesn¡¯t burden me in any real way. This¡¯ll do nicely. No complaints out of me for now. Looking at my list, I see what I¡¯m still missing. Rucksack ¨C Check Fishing rod ¨C Check Portable stove ¨C Check Knife ¨C Check Hiking Boots ¨C Check Compass ¨C O Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Map ¨C O Matches ¨C O Tent ¨C O Sleeping Bag ¨C O I know the most expensive things on the list left to go are the tent and sleeping bag, so I decide on dealing with that tomorrow. There¡¯s still something I have to take care of. Once I¡¯m gone I won¡¯t need my PC anymore, so I¡¯ve decided to either sell it or just get rid of it. I don¡¯t really know anyone who doesn¡¯t hate my guts, so selling it would be a pretty big challenge for me to pull off. One thing¡¯s for sure, though. The hard drive needs to get dunked in acid or I need to take it with me and throw it in a lake once I get there. Were anyone to find it, there¡¯s no fucking way I could talk myself out of that one. If my folks aren¡¯t already planning to disown me, that hard drive would be the final nail in the coffin. The irrefutable proof Bishop Browne is a filthy deviant with subhuman taste¡­ Although I guess there¡¯s worse things to be into than that¡­ I¡¯m not leaving yet though, so the hard drive lives another day. Still, there¡¯s definitely a few things I¡¯ll have to throw out. Like the desk I hauled up to the third floor on my own when I first took residence here. I¡¯m sure that¡¯ll be as fun to get down as it was to get up¡­ *** June 30th, 2024 11:21 AM The next two days go by pretty fast for me due to how much fun I¡¯m having planning things out and getting the stuff I need to make it all happen. I actually managed to get someone who lives here at the dorms to buy the PC from me for $150 bucks. Considering it was lacking a hard drive, the guy didn¡¯t feel like two hundred was going to fly. All in all I spent around $800 on it when I was still in high school, so letting it go for so little kind of hurt, but it was that or throwing it out and getting nothing for it. Using my cell phone to do the rest of my planning and internet searches was slower, but it was do-able. The important thing was that now I nearly had everything checked off my list. I had it all figured out and all that was really left was for me to sort everything out on my end here and take an Uber to a little town called North bend just before I start my hike through the woods towards the beautiful Lake Hancock. Everything was going so well that I didn¡¯t expect anything to go wrong. Knock Knock Knock The sound coming from the door practically froze me in place for several moments. Fear had been at the back of my mind even though I¡¯d been walking in and out of my room a couple of times a day just buying the stuff I needed for the trip. I hadn¡¯t seen Cordelia or her group since that day I went to the convenience store. It must have been around a week by now, but I had a feeling that was about to change at some point. I just didn¡¯t expect her to bother coming here if that was who was knocking on my door. I don¡¯t bother with a response. Maybe whoever it was would leave if they thought I wasn¡¯t in. ¡°I know you¡¯re in there, Bishop. I want to talk.¡± It was, of course, Cordelia. For some reason I kind of shrunk in on myself. Shame washed over me. Why? It didn¡¯t make sense to feel this way now. We knew how things would go from now on. Nothing was going to change that, and nothing had to. Was she just here to fuck with me and get a kick out of it? Whatever. I¡¯m not the talkative sort. She knows that. Knocking twice more, she says something I don¡¯t expect. ¡°Please¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡± Now I was confused. Why would she feel sorry? The answer was simple. She didn¡¯t. It was typical of someone who felt their pride was hurt to attack someone smaller than them and claim it back. This kind of two-faced shit was typical of most people, especially women. I¡¯d seen how fat bitches talk mad shit about skinny bitches, and how old women call younger women sluts because they know they¡¯re no longer anywhere near as marketable. Cordelia was no different than your run of the mill woman. She¡¯s strong and empowered until things don¡¯t go her way, then suddenly she¡¯s a victim. Plus, she did have the last word. She could fucking keep it for all I cared. Knock¡­ Knock¡­ After a while she leaves and I¡¯m relieved to know she wasted her time. Or maybe I¡¯m just glad I don¡¯t have to deal with her. I definitely don¡¯t want to see her again. If all goes well, I get in the Uber without so much as bumping into one of her piece of shit cronies and my way is clear. Chapter 4 - Good Riddance July 1st, 2024 10:09 AM I knew trying to help Bishop would be difficult, but I hadn¡¯t expected for him to turn on me like that. The reason I got mad at him was because I couldn¡¯t deny his barb. For as much as the others mock him behind his back, I know he¡¯s not stupid. He¡¯s a perceptive little bugger, and feeling his words dig into me like that really hurt. Sitting alone on the couch in the living room just staring at the television, I can kind of see it from his point of view. Why he would prefer to stay inside. Personally, I would call it torture not having anyone to talk to, but I know Bishop has been struggling for a long time, and he¡¯s obviously used to it by now. I¡¯m in an odd state of self-loathing and self-reflection. Something I¡¯m decidedly not used to. Maybe he¡¯s finally rubbing off on me. Imagine, the whole time I¡¯m trying to rub off on him the opposite is what ends up happening. It¡¯s all so¡­ depressing. ¡°Now onto local news. The body of one Montey Webber has finally been found after nearly a month and a half of searching by his family. The mother of the deceased shared her frustrations in trying to find her son with the help of Seattle police. Evidently, the department was in no rush as the ongoing investigation regarding their involvement with local prostitution continues to gain momentum.¡± Seattle is a fucking shithole, but I already knew that. ¡°Additionally, drug abuse and distribution seems to have skyrocketed over the last year, and when asked for comments, the chief of police refused to speak on the matter.¡± I just hope he doesn¡¯t do anything stupid. Some people go off on their own and never come back. I¡¯m afraid for Bishop, but just a week ago I seriously thought it would have been better if he just killed himself. The thought makes me sick. That¡¯s not a thought I ever want to have again. Sure, he¡¯s annoying sometimes and doesn¡¯t make it easy, but he doesn¡¯t deserve that. Nobody does. When his mother called my mother, and she called me, I thought it wasn¡¯t so serious, but I¡¯m starting to realize how dangerous this all is. I don¡¯t know exactly what goes on inside his little head, but I know it isn¡¯t pretty. Part of me wants to give up on Bishop, because I know he¡¯s not going to let me in to help him, but part of me knows if I don¡¯t try, it will follow me for as long as his self-loathing has followed him. Maybe longer. When I spoke to his mother directly to tell her I couldn¡¯t do anything for him last week, she told me he feels guilty. When I asked her to elaborate, all she said was that he used to have a friend, but that he doesn¡¯t anymore. Something happened between them, and I was afraid to ask what. Ms. Browne just wanted me to promise I would try to be there for him. I¡¯m reluctant to keep it up, but I understand how she feels. Her son is suffering and likely facing suicidal thoughts. Nobody takes it seriously until it¡¯s too late. Clenching my fists, I get up to try again. Walking out of my unit I leave with a purpose. This time, I¡¯m going to make him listen to me. Because I do care, even if he doesn¡¯t. *** July 1st, 2024 10:11 AM Fuck! Either the god damn desk is heavier than when I first brought it up, or I¡¯m weaker. Of course nobody offers to help me as I slowly make my way down to the side of the building where I leave it to find its next victim. Not that I would take them up on the offer¡­ Once I¡¯m back in my room, it feels much bigger without the desk taking up nearly half the space. I¡¯m not claustrophobic but if I had to choose between a small room and a big one, I¡¯d go with the small room. They just feel more cozy. Either way, all I¡¯ve got left to do is finish packing my stuff in the rucksack and call the Uber. Last night I made for the showers and finally broke one of my longest streaks. I¡¯m not proud or anything, but I don¡¯t really know how I¡¯m going to wash up once I¡¯m out there. I guess I¡¯d just jump into the lake and shake around a bit? Sounds like a good way to get parasites, but those waters looked very clean from what I saw online. The worst things out there are probably wolves or cougars. That¡¯s what really has me worried more than anything, but I can¡¯t bring a gun. I never bothered with those things. I¡¯m sure I wouldn¡¯t have to elaborate as to why someone like me would be dumb to even consider it. Still, none of that is enough to deter me. I¡¯d rather take my chances out there than stay in my room any longer with ruminating thoughts pushing me over the edge. I need to get away¡­ at least for a while. Hauling the rucksack over my shoulders, I find it very comfortable to carry behind me. My hiking shoes are a perfect fit. My jacket and jeans are freshly washed, and my hair isn¡¯t matted for once. It¡¯s time to go. Grabbing my keys I lock the door behind me for the last time and make my way to the main office to drop them off. The guy in the reception looks me over and asks, ¡°Plannin¡¯ on going somewhere, son?¡± I nod before giving him the keys and going on my way. I¡¯m not looking to get into a conversation with anyone from around here. Maybe the Uber driver will strike up a conversation with a controversial topic. I¡¯d honestly love to talk shit about the law and how it practically bends men over and goes to town without lube, but first I need to call him. *** July 1st, 2024 10:22 AM You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Knock! Knock! Knock! ¡°Bishop Browne you open this door right now! I¡¯m not leaving this time!¡± Several moments pass and he doesn¡¯t make a sound. A few knocks later and still nothing. I¡¯m trying really hard to hear something from the other side, but it doesn¡¯t seem like he¡¯s even in right now. Actually, now that I think about it I¡¯ve seen him a few times last week and he did seem to be up to something¡­ but what? He doesn¡¯t leave his room unless he has to. What¡¯s going on with Bishop lately? It¡¯s been nearly ten minutes, and still I haven¡¯t heard anything, so I begrudgingly start leaving once more. The funny thing is, I don¡¯t even know exactly what I¡¯m going to tell him when I see him, only that I have to say something. He¡¯s going to try to hurt my feelings again, I know, but that¡¯s just his way of trying to push everyone away. Well too bad. I¡¯m not going to let him push me away anymore. That¡¯s over and done with. I¡¯m not going to let him lose himself like this any longer. I¡¯ll drag his skinny butt to the movies if I have to. I know he¡¯s a full-on introvert, so I won¡¯t force him to interact with other people, but he needs to start somewhere. My plan was to come back and try again later, but it turns out I don¡¯t have to. The sight of what could honestly be mistaken for a middle-schooler with baggage taller than his head slung behind his back meets me just outside. Bishop is standing near the side of the parking lot on campus, and it seems like he¡¯s waiting for something. Huh? I don¡¯t get it. Before I can comprehend more I find myself walking towards the little bastard. What the hell¡¯s he up to? *** July 1st, 2024 10:37 AM After putting up my request it¡¯s all just a matter of waiting at the pick-up spot in front of campus. I¡¯m so close to leaving I actually feel relieved. I¡¯ve got everything checked off my list plus a few extra things I thought of last minute, like purification tablets. Once I get to North Bend, I¡¯ll see if I can¡¯t figure anything else out before I commit. The trip to the small town will put me below 50 bucks, but that¡¯s okay. Looking off to my right I see the campus, and the thought that I could have applied myself and gotten somewhere in life makes me a little regretful. I¡¯ve heard people going to college for the first time have all sorts of stories to share about how it was simultaneously bad and awesome, but I couldn¡¯t muster the enthusiasm to get out there¡­ I know I could have done better, but I just didn¡¯t have it in me to care. The truth is, I¡¯ve been lost for years now. Ever since¡­ I lost a certain someone. I wish with all of my cold, shrivelled heart that we could have gone camping together like that one time we did as kids. Just shoot the shit and make new memories. But we can¡¯t. Because he¡¯s gone, and he¡¯s not coming back. Maybe it¡¯s my turn to go now, too. I don¡¯t know what¡¯ll happen, but I think everything is going to be okay. Perhaps this is for the best, and I¡¯ve only been putting it off all this time. The idea of doing this was surprisingly natural to me. Like I had always wanted to do this, but just didn¡¯t have the drive for it yet. The last talk I had with the folks made me come to terms with the fact that I truly am alone. Nobody is going to come save me. Not that I would even let them. It¡¯s too late for that now. So when I turn to my left, I can¡¯t help but cringe into myself. What the fuck is she doing here? I try to pretend like I didn¡¯t just see Cordelia Mason, but she comes walking up to me anyway. Yeah. Everything was going a little too perfect, so I guess this was bound to happen. ¡°Bishop? Where are you going? What¡¯s with the backpack?¡± she asks. All I have to do is ignore her until my driver gets here and I leave. Not too difficult. ¡°Bishop. Talk to me, please?¡± she pleads, but I don¡¯t move a muscle. ¡°You¡¯re scaring me. What¡¯s going on with you lately? What are you planning on doing?¡± I look at my cellphone and see the time. 10:42 AM. The driver won¡¯t be here for at least a few more minutes, so she¡¯s got plenty of time to be a thorn in my side. ¡°If you don¡¯t talk to me I¡¯m going to call your parents.¡± she warns me now, like I¡¯m some fucking kid being bad. ¡°Go ahead. I don¡¯t give a fuck.¡± I snarl at her. She¡¯s taken aback and flinches but refuses to leave. ¡°Bishop this isn¡¯t funny! Tell me what the fuck is going on with you!¡± The look on her face makes me wonder how she¡¯ll get wrinkles once she¡¯s older. Cordelia is going to age like milk if she keeps that up. ¡°What do you care? Just go away already and leave me the fuck alone.¡± ¡°Of course I care! I know you¡¯re struggling, and I¡¯m sorry about last week, but if you¡¯d just let me I know I can help you!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want your fucking help! Leave me alone already you fucking bitch!¡± Even I¡¯m a little surprised by my outburst, but Cordelia looks to be at the brink of crying. She refuses to quit even when I tell her plainly that she¡¯s wasting her time. How else can I put it? She has only herself to blame. I¡¯m not in the mood to let her stroke her own ego at my expense. Taking out her cellphone through shaky fingers, Cordelia begins dialling a number. I look away. Nothing is going to stop me from leaving this place and the mere idea of dealing with how other people feel is only pushing me onward. Cordelia doesn¡¯t actually care about me. Even told me to kill myself for pointing it out. She had no problem getting her friend group to jab at me the other day, and now she says she¡¯s changed her mind? Spare me. Cars keep passing by and I hope one of them is my Uber, but no such luck. I¡¯m still stuck here a little longer from the looks of things. To make matters worse, as if Cordelia wasn¡¯t bad enough a few members of her posse come to check us out after my outburst, and I start to feel cornered once more. I don¡¯t go looking for attention, but it tends to find me at the worst moments anyway. ¡°Bishop¡­ please, just listen to me, okay?¡± Cordelia sobs, trying to get me to look her way. I don¡¯t. ¡°Whatever you¡¯re planning on doing, think about it. You¡¯re not alone, you¡¯ve got me. I know you hate me, and maybe I deserve it a little, but I know however bad I feel you¡¯re suffering, too¡­¡± I almost look her way, but I manage to stop myself. I don¡¯t like hearing her say that. It doesn¡¯t feel genuine¡­ Or maybe I don¡¯t want to accept it as genuine. Either way, I guess calling my folks was just a bluff. I¡¯m so stupid for even entertaining the notion that she¡¯s being real with me. Why can¡¯t she just leave me alone? ¡°If you¡¯re going to hurt yourself, I wouldn¡¯t be able to forgive myself. I¡¯m begging you to reconsider this. There¡¯s still a chance for you to get better and live a good life. You don¡¯t have to hurt like this, and I can help you work through-¡° Cordelia tries to tell me once more, but someone speaks up behind her. ¡°What¡¯s this? Did the little asshole come out of his cave again?¡± the snarky voice of a guy butts in. I can tell he didn¡¯t like Cordelia talking to me like that, because he possessively puts an arm around her shoulder. Cordelia looks surprised as she tries to get him off, but he stays like that long enough for me to catch a glimpse of his smirk. ¡°Get off me, Andrew!¡± she tells him, but the crowd behind has gotten closer and now they¡¯re clearly trying to make her reconsider what she¡¯s saying. I hear little whispers from them to her, mostly about how it¡¯s best to just forget about me, and how I¡¯m a lost cause and all that. I hope they can get her to leave despite the fact that they¡¯re a bunch of subhuman scum. Fortunately, I don¡¯t have to put up with the pressure any longer because I see a car park in front of the sidewalk. My ride has arrived. I make to get in, but Cordelia manages to shake them off and makes a grab for my shoulder, her final gambit as handsy and pathetic as ever. ¡°Bishop! Wait! Don¡¯t go! Think about how your parents would feel! They¡¯ll be worried sick!¡± I slap away her hand and get inside the car. The Uber driver looks a little curious as he turns his head to look us over, but he doesn¡¯t get involved. I quickly close the door and in seconds we¡¯re off. I know better not to, but I find myself looking back to see the crowd trying to talk her into moving on. Cordelia falls on her knees, putting both hands on her face. It suddenly occurs to me that¡¯s most likely exactly what she wanted. All the attention from her friends must be like an addictive high. I¡¯ve heard about that, actually. People do drugs and stay homeless despite the fact they can probably get by, but they¡¯re always chasing that next high because they¡¯re addicted to it. They just can¡¯t get enough of it. But then again, trying to rationalize her behavior this time feels somewhat wrong. I think for a moment she was serious when she said she wanted to help me. Maybe she wasn¡¯t bullshitting me¡­ I wouldn¡¯t know, though. I¡¯ve got someplace to be for a whole month, and nobody is going to get in the way of that. Besides, it¡¯s not like I¡¯ll be missed. In all my time at the college, I didn¡¯t exactly behave like my namesake. Chapter 5 - On My Own July 1st, 2024 11:53 AM North Bend is a very small town to the far east of Seattle. A popular stopping point for hikers and the like. The driver is nice enough to drop me off at a small caf¨¦ near the middle of town. I¡¯ve got my map, my compass, and a bit of money to get a coffee and plan out a route to Lake Hancock. The last time I saw a big lake was with my friend and his uncle back when we were only 9 years old, so I¡¯m really looking forward to it. After getting myself a sweet cappuccino, I set my things on a table at the far end of the caf¨¦ and start looking at trails and roads on my map. It¡¯s clear as day I¡¯m a noob when it comes to hiking, but everyone starts somewhere, and people tend to learn the most when they have to do things on their own. It¡¯s kind of perfect now that I think about it. I had just enough to get started out here. The hard part is yet to rear its head, however. Once I make for the woods, it¡¯ll be a few days walk through the forest and hills until I reach the lake unless I can find an easier way. I haven¡¯t even put the tent together in practice yet, but I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯ll be an easy process. There seems to be a slight commotion at the front counter where there¡¯s a few people watching the news and I catch sight of a really tall person with a bright red jacket. They seem to be going back and forth about something¡­ I try to listen in from where I¡¯m sitting but only catch certain words like ¡®Pigs,¡¯ and ¡®Useless¡¯. Looking up at the news I notice there¡¯s a reporter trying to talk to a man in uniform who looks like a policeman, and I put two and two together. Yeah, everyone knows how lazy the cops in Seattle are. We have syringes on the road popping tires from how many junkies roam the streets. Homelessness is at an all-time high, and if anything, the city is exploiting them by asking for funding while keeping the problem going. Can you imagine this shit? What kind of clown world are we living in that the fucking mayor and the entire police department are profiting from letting people ruin their lives? Welcome to the united fucking states, where the only thing truly united is the mother fuckers in office creating problems and then selling the ¡®solution¡¯ with a tax on top. If it wasn¡¯t clear enough, there¡¯s a reason I¡¯m going camping instead of becoming a bum. I may be depressed and considering ending it all, but there¡¯s no reason to shoot up my arm with shit. I¡¯ve never had any interest in that. The tall figure notices me sneering at the screen and tilts their head my way before I can refocus my attention on the map. As they walk away from the counter I finally take in their appearance, and I feel a slight sense of worry seeing her come my way. She¡¯s a blonde with green eyes and an inquisitive expression. My eyes start darting around for a way to get away, but of course I can¡¯t. I practically cornered myself by picking the place I¡¯m currently sitting on. The idea was that I¡¯d feel safer in a spot where I could watch everyone else and what they were doing, but that¡¯s about to backfire on me. She doesn¡¯t even bother asking if she can sit before the seat opposite mine is claimed by her rear. ¡°Hello, little man! Are you lost? Where are your parents?¡± Is she fucking serious? She thinks I¡¯m a child? I want to pinch the bridge of my nose, but I already had an exciting morning back at campus¡­ ¡°I¡¯m 20 years old, lady. And if you couldn¡¯t tell I¡¯m a little busy over here.¡± I reply in a flat tone. I get it, I¡¯m a borderline midget who didn¡¯t grow much past puberty, but the last time anyone mistook me for a kid was back before college. I wish I could grow a beard or something¡­ ¡°Oh, sorry. My name¡¯s Penelope. Penelope Ashwood.¡± she introduces herself as she reaches out a hand for me to shake. Kind of old fashioned, but why would I shake her hand? Seeing as I¡¯m not about to return the gesture, she retracts her arm and gives me a little frown. ¡°¡­ I¡¯ll stop wasting your time. Why are you here?¡± Now she¡¯s being pushy? First of all, what business is that of hers? ¡°I¡¯m visiting family. They live nearby and we¡¯re going camping.¡± I blatantly lie with a smile. By now I¡¯ve picked up the reason people don¡¯t fuck off and leave me be. They think I¡¯m going to get into trouble all by myself. I need to give them an excuse to walk off and let me continue on my way. ¡°Really? What¡¯s their name? I know everyone around here.¡± she tells me, and I can see she¡¯s serious about sleuthing her way past my lies. Bothersome, to say the least. ¡°I don¡¯t see why you need to know that. I¡¯m not looking to socialise right now, so I would appreciate the peace and quiet. Now, if you don¡¯t mind¡­¡± I say, suggestively motioning for her to leave. Instead, she leans back and gives my supplies a gander. A look of concern crosses her face before she tells me, ¡°Have you been watching the news? Lots of folk have gone missing ¡®round these parts. They found the dead body of a man who had been reported missing about a month ago.¡± The news aren¡¯t interesting to me because I only think one of two things when watching them: Psyop or Bullshit. Journalism is a fucking joke. Shaking my head, she continues, ¡°I can tell you don¡¯t want me botherin¡¯ you, but if you¡¯re thinking about going anywhere out there, don¡¯t. It¡¯s dangerous and you wouldn¡¯t be the first, or even the tenth to go missing in the span of just six months.¡± If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°I see. Thank you.¡± I tell her, nodding in gratitude for her advice. She doesn¡¯t get up. Instead, she gives me another look and shakes her head in disappointment. Seeing as this is going nowhere, I put my stuff away and make to leave, but she grabs my arm as I walk past her seat. I want to pull away, but she¡¯s still got one more thing to try with me, it looks like. ¡°If you¡¯re still intent on going I¡¯ll have to call the cops, you know...¡± I smirk at her. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a shame. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll stop eating their donuts to come chase me through some bushes.¡± Oddly enough, she smirks back. She probably expected me to balk at her threat, but after realizing I¡¯m not as green as she thought, she lets go of my arm. Cappuccino in hand, I leave the caf¨¦ and decide to just start now. People have gone missing? Really? Get the fuck outta here. Trying to scare me out of going on my own, and for what? Nah, nothing is going to deter me now. I can¡¯t trust anything anyone says. They¡¯re all just out for themselves, and whatever that woman wanted to sell me, I ain¡¯t buyin¡¯. The walk north of town isn¡¯t long. A dozen minutes and I¡¯m already at the edge. There are a few trails for cars and stuff that lead to a few barns or properties, but I can already tell the slopes of land that go up and down in uneven intervals are going to get pretty rough. That¡¯s just the type of terrain we have here in Washington State. Fortunately, when I was busy looking at the map back at the caf¨¦, I did find a particular way to reach my destination without much confusion. There¡¯s a paved road that leads straight to the lake I¡¯m staying at. Unfortunately, the road isn¡¯t a straight line. It weaves and turns in several sections, but it¡¯s a surefire way I won¡¯t get lost. It¡¯ll just take me a few days on foot to reach it, so not as rough as trudging through the woods. I guess it could be worse, though. Stepping with one foot in front of the other, I start to count my steps from the dirty unpaved road to the neat one, and I find myself feeling kind of like I used to back when I was a kid. This is like an adventure. The biggest reason why I¡¯m so intent on it is because I feel like I¡¯ve lost something fundamental. Kind of melodramatic, but that¡¯s as accurate as I can describe it. Not to mention I feel like I can finally breathe for the first time in years. There¡¯s just something about the air out here that¡¯s different from the inner city and the pollution that surrounds it, and I don¡¯t just mean smog from cars. I mean the general feeling of being surrounded by people who feel robbed of a purpose or goal in life. I would know all about that even at my relatively young age. Once I arrive at the smooth paved road I look at my cellphone and realize I¡¯ll lose reception once I get far enough along. I decide to, for whatever reason, take a picture of myself. I hadn¡¯t noticed before, but I guess I do kind of have a perpetual frown going on. I look kind of miserable, but that¡¯s to be expected¡­ Anyway, here goes. It¡¯s gonna be a while until I get to Lake Hancock on foot. *** July 1st, 2024 7:57 PM Several hours of walking later, I look down at my cellphone¡¯s reception and see I¡¯ve still got a single blinking bar to work with. There¡¯s nothing I want to say to my folks and I¡¯ve long since turned notifications off. There¡¯s nobody I think needs to hear from me. If this is the last chance I get to contact anyone, I don¡¯t feel particularly inclined to make use of it. Nobody is around to see my face twist with sorrow, and I¡¯m glad. I thought I was fine with being alone, but I guess sometimes it does catch up to me. Nothing doing, just hafta keep on walking. I¡¯m on the far-right side of the road so as to avoid any accidents from happening, but I hear a car coming in from behind me. Turning back to see, it¡¯s a heavy-duty truck with a nice dark-red paint job. I almost whistle, but then I notice who''s on the wheel. ¡­ Really? You again? The tall woman from the caf¨¦ slowly gets out to lean on the side of her truck. She looks like she¡¯s about to speak when I beat her to it. ¡°Parking in the middle of the road is illegal, you know.¡± She pauses before smirking at me. ¡°Oh? Don¡¯t go telling the pigs about it. I¡¯ll get in trouble!¡± I would have chuckled if I wasn¡¯t weary of why she¡¯s here. What¡¯s her angle? Then I kind of feel a bit of fear creeping up behind me. What if she was telling the truth? What if there¡¯s a kidnapping ring or something and she¡¯s part of it? The impulse to run off dawns on me, and her presence doesn¡¯t feel entirely harmless. Although, the paranoid idea feels kind of silly after a moment¡­ ¡°Listen, I can tell you¡¯re serious about this, so I¡¯ve got an offer for you.¡± she starts, using an amicable voice now. ¡°I¡¯ve been planning on going up these parts for some time now, and I could use some help. Would you be willing to work with me?¡± Hell. No. ¡°I think I¡¯ll pass. Good luck with whatever it is you¡¯re doing, though.¡± As I make to continue on my way she jogs up to me and I groan before turning around. ¡°Look, lady. I¡¯m sick and tired of people trying to string me along to do whatever the hell they want. I just want to get away from it all. Is that so much to ask? Leave me alone¡­¡± She stops, her mouth halfway open as she mulls that over. ¡°¡­ I see. Sorry to bother you. I wasn¡¯t lying back at the caf¨¦, however. People have gone missing from doing exactly what we are right now. That was no shit. They found Montey Webber¡¯s corpse not too far from where we¡¯re standing.¡± I stop and turn to look at her. My furrowed brows are enough indication for her to continue. ¡°When his family finally found him along a creek, his entire body was covered in wounds nobody can explain. There were puncture marks along his torso, bite marks along his arms and legs, and a few through his skull. All of that from some animal. He was nearly unrecognizable. He¡¯s one of the dozen people who have reportedly gone missing in the past six months. The only one found so far.¡± I shift a bit before asking, ¡°What are you trying to tell me?¡± ¡°I¡¯m saying we both need someone to watch our backs out here.¡± A shiver runs down my spine, but checking the news for myself is out of the question as I¡¯ve lost all reception. I look back up at her, and she¡¯s crossed her arms in front of her modest chest. I don¡¯t like this. What if she¡¯s lying to me? What if she¡¯s just trying to catch me by surprise and sell my organs or some shit? I don¡¯t like this at all. ¡°¡­ That¡¯s okay. I¡¯ll take my chances.¡± I say and begin walking away one last time. I can hear her huffing before she yells out to me, ¡°You¡¯re making a mistake! At least turn back and find another forest to get lost in!¡± Scowling, I start ignoring her. In a few moments her truck drives past me and I notice her looking back through the rear-view mirror with a look of annoyance. Whatever. I¡¯m not letting anyone get the better of me, especially now when I¡¯ve come so far. Observing the tall trees all around, it finally dawns on me the sun is a good way into leaving the horizon. Night will soon be descending upon me. Great¡­ Chapter 6 - Troublesome Neighbor July 1st, 2024 8:44 PM Not long after the encounter with the woman, I finally found a flat enough patch of ground next to the road and set up my tent just as night fell. It took me about 5 minutes to get it all up, with the sleeping bag laid diagonally inside. Everything fit within comfortably, to my relief. Despite the fact that I¡¯m exposed to whatever animal comes bounding through the woods, I feel like a bug in a rug. Drowsiness made it very easy for me to get to sleep, and I was just about to drift off but- Pshhh¡­ I hear a sound. Like something between an opened soda can and a deflating tire. Could an animal be moving out there? The shuffling of leaves joins in, and a bad feeling begins to take root in my stomach. I don¡¯t watch the news, but glancing a bit at the television back at the caf¨¦ I remember it saying that we wouldn¡¯t be getting much of anything. No rain or nothing. The season is perfect for outdoor activity, so I find it strange there would suddenly be wind picking up outside, if that¡¯s what that is. Crack¡­ Snap¡­ With what I¡¯m sure are twigs breaking, I know there¡¯s something out there now¡­. I make to move out of my sleeping bag, almost opening the zipper to peer outside, but I stop myself¡­ For some reason, I feel like that would be a mistake. I see my hand hovering and find it shaking. My cellphone¡¯s dim light suddenly doesn¡¯t feel like such a bright idea and I quickly turn it off. Waiting and holding my breath, I try to listen more carefully, but nothing else happens. Maybe it really was just the forest, but those sounds like branches breaking¡­ It could have been a racoon or something stepping on a stick. I¡¯m being paranoid. Getting inside the sleeping bag fully now, I decide the best thing to do is to just go to sleep¡­ Not before taking my knife and holding it close, however. *** July 2nd, 2024 7:23 AM Birds chirping and singing are the first sounds I wake up to, then it¡¯s the ambiance of the forest and its general music coming together in my ears. Last night had been kind of scary, but not enough to have any nightmares. Getting the tent sorted along with the sleeping bag takes a little less than it took to put together, but I¡¯m back to walking along the road in short order. I¡¯ve still got who knows how many hours of walking and likely another night of sleep before I get there, but I¡¯m hoping that¡¯s not the case. Looking at the map, I noticed there¡¯s a particular part along the way where there¡¯s a much more direct path skipping a good bit of road. I decide to make a point of switching terrain once I reach it to save myself precious time, but that could be asking for trouble¡­ Stomach growling, I take out some peanuts and start snacking away. Then it hits me across the face like a wet towel. I forgot to buy fuckin¡¯ toilet paper. Now I have to take my chances on wiping with poison ivy. That should be fun¡­ Either way, there¡¯s only one thing to do, and that¡¯s to keep going. Most days back at the college I struggled to get up, but this morning I had no issues with that. I see it as a good thing. After a while I reach the little diversion where the road takes a noticeable turn to the left, and I can tell this is where I¡¯ve got to turn north-east and start moving through the woods if I want to save some time. The map tells me I¡¯ve got much less space to move past this way than if I just kept following the road. The idea that I¡¯ll see the lake in the afternoon has me excited. With a determined expression, I get off the road and start moving towards the forest. The thing I hadn¡¯t counted on was the verticality of it all. These woods aren¡¯t flat. Not at all. I¡¯m climbing up and using both hands at certain points just to get past inclines, and there are trees all over, blocking my way and making me weave and duck through branches. I need to take a break after a dozen minutes because my calves aren¡¯t used to this kind of strain. I¡¯m clearly trading energy for time, and I¡¯m no athlete. As if all of that wasn¡¯t bad enough, I start hearing a little bit of water moving through a small ravine. Clambering up another hill, I see it. I¡¯ll have to get my hiking boots wet and risk tripping if I want to get by or turn back and just bite the bullet which means several more hours on the road and likely having to camp out in the tent again. ¡­ I genuinely consider the two options. I¡¯m already sweaty and the strain from traversing the woods like this has already caught up with me. Taking a seat on the hill to catch my breath a bit, I decide wet pants and socks aren¡¯t the worst thing in the world. I¡¯ll hang them up a branch once I set up camp and take the time to appreciate the sight of the lake. I¡¯ve come this far. No sense in turning back now only to make my life all that much harder. After I feel rested enough, I slowly make my way down to the ravine. It¡¯s about a six-meter trudge through the water, and although the rocks look like they might help me avoid getting wet, they have a sheen to them that makes me think I¡¯ll slip and break something. I¡¯m carrying a bunch of stuff, and although I made sure I could carry it comfortably, taking it slow and easy feels like the prudent thing to do. The first steps already have me feeling water in my feet, and just a meter into the ravine I¡¯m already drenched in it. Grimacing, I slowly keep moving forward and make it to the other side at last without slipping.. When I make it up the next hill and the sound of water gets more and more muffled, I know I¡¯ve made progress. A dozen minutes more, and I see the road. I take out my map and sure enough, I¡¯ve just avoided quite a sizable amount of walking and all I had to do was get my hiking boots wet, as well as parts of my pants, and exert a lot more physical effort than I would have, but the silver lining here is I did it in about half an hour, not six or seven. As I keep hauling myself past the forest, I feel proud. That¡¯s not something I usually get to feel. I¡¯d almost forgotten this feeling. As doubtful as it sounds, I am not shameless. There¡¯s lots I regret and treating so many people around me raw, I end up hurting myself a little bit each time. I wish I could share this feeling with someone else, but I went out of my way to make sure I couldn¡¯t. Why had I done that, again? Hell, that tall lady who thought I was a child seemed nice enough, but I just couldn¡¯t bring myself to trust her. Why? Sure, she¡¯s a stranger, but if she was telling the truth, maybe this was a mistake?... I have no way of knowing. Besides, only 12 people in half a year? Isn¡¯t that, like, the average? Out of how many people go hiking in Washington that¡¯s probably not even a fraction, I bet. *** July 2nd, 2024 1:21 PM Walking along the road for a while in soggy boots, I decide it¡¯s time to get my bearings once more. From the map I can tell I¡¯ve got maybe two hours tops before I see the lake. Sure enough, I catch a glimpse of it a few minutes before then. Out of all the things I¡¯ve brought, the map and compass have been the most useful things I could have thought to bring. They have more than pulled their weight, despite being among the lightest things I¡¯m carrying. Lake Hancock is very wide and along the south edges I see a few parts have spaces specifically for setting up camp. As I come off the road and step towards the dirt, I notice there are truck tracks leading towards the east. I guess that¡¯s where the giant is staying. Part of me wants to go north just to avoid her, but there¡¯s way more open sections for camping on the south-western perimeter near the road. I don¡¯t see any open space to the north, just more thick woods and tall trees. What catches my eye is a cabin among trees just past a little balcony that extends above the lake a few meters. Maybe there¡¯s people over there, but I don¡¯t want to bother anyone. I need to hurry up and set up my tent and start drying my hiking boots. In the end, I decide to circle around past that girl¡¯s camp site and avoid her. It shouldn¡¯t be too hard, right? Walking along the sandy path on the lake¡¯s shoreline I notice her big dark-red truck is parked several meters away from the shore, and there¡¯s already something cooking on a fire from the smell of things. Getting a little closer, I notice there¡¯s three long logs surrounding a little fire-pit with a metal table on four legs above the flames. I smell the bacon before I hear a slight sizzling. Growl¡­ Shut up! Now¡¯s not the time, stomach¡­ It¡¯s easier to just walk along the shoreline instead of dealing with the forest, so I just make my way past on the damp sand. Unfortunately, the big wide tent near the truck has an occupant, and she¡¯s come out to check the noise my wet boots have been making. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. I freeze as I notice she¡¯s pointing something at me, held with both arms and stable to her shoulder. Before I know it, I¡¯ve got a rifle aimed my way. She quirks an eyebrow before lowering her firearm. I blink a few times but continue on my way as if nothing happened. I¡¯m about to piss my pants, and I don¡¯t need her seeing it. ¡°Hey! Wait!¡± she calls out to me. I don¡¯t stop, why would I? She¡¯s clearly a crazy whacko. Who points a gun at someone so casually? I need to get the fuck out of here. The sounds of her trudging catches up to me and she forcibly whirls me around to face her. I try to avoid her, my arms flailing in the air a bit before I end up falling on my ass on the wet sand. There¡¯s a beat before she speaks up again. ¡°S-Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to do that,¡± I make to get up and leave again, but she puts a hand on my shoulder firmly. ¡°Would you just stop for a moment? It wouldn¡¯t kill you,¡± she says with annoyance, but I cut her off. ¡°What do you want? To kill somebody? Is that why you¡¯re out here?¡± I ask her incredulously. The persistence of this bitch elicits d¨¦j¨¤ vu in me. She somewhat reminds me of Cordelia if she were on gear or some shit. I keep that thought to myself, however. I haven¡¯t seen her angry, and I don¡¯t think I want to. ¡°¡­ Something like that.¡± she says seriously after a moment, but it¡¯s none of my business. ¡°Please just let me go. I just want to go. Please.¡± I plead with her, but she doesn¡¯t budge. ¡°I already asked you why you¡¯re out here. If you tell me the real reason, I¡¯ll consider it.¡± Who does she think she is? This is beyond frustrating. ¡°What¡¯re you going to do if I don¡¯t? Shoot me? Go ahead, then. Do it!¡± For a moment, she¡¯s taken aback by my dare. ¡°What are you waiting for? Shoot me bitch!¡± Finally my shoulder is free, and she shakes her head. ¡°There¡¯s something wrong with you, kid.¡± I snort. ¡°What the fuck would you know?¡± My whole body is shaking and I have a hard time standing, but I just need to get away from her as soon as possible. That¡¯s not someone I want to get involved with. Walking for a good while away from her camp towards the east, I finally find a spot I¡¯m comfortable with. With a long and tired exhalation, I lower my head as I try to calm the fuck down. It takes me a few moments. Pulling out the tent, I place it near the water, but not too close. The fishing rod is going to come in useful since there¡¯s a pretty big rock on the shore that¡¯s just above the Lake and close enough to the deeper parts that I might have luck catching something. It takes about 10 minutes to have it all set up. I go looking for a big enough log to use as a seat and then find some rocks to put around my portable stove. I don¡¯t really need to do that, but I like the look of it. Kind of like what she had going on at her camp site. After I feel situated well enough, the adrenaline and anxiety has mostly washed over me, but there¡¯s a bit of it still lingering. I feel¡­ Vulnerable. It isn¡¯t comfortable, and as much as I hate to admit it, she¡¯s come prepared. I can only imagine how much useful shit she¡¯s working with since she came with a heavy-duty truck. That rifle is likely not the only thing she¡¯s packing, either. The idea of just going deeper into the woods and looking for another lake comes to me, but then I¡¯d really be looking for trouble. I can still walk back to North Bend on my own like this, but if I go any further, I can¡¯t guarantee anything. I hate considering it, but there¡¯s a good chance that¡¯s not the last I see of that crazy bitch while I¡¯m out here. My neighbor is a troublesome person, it seems. That doesn¡¯t matter, though. Right now I need to find a branch to dry my pants and boots. I¡¯ve got a change of clothes with me, so I put on my casual shoes and other jeans to compensate for the state of my previous items. It shouldn¡¯t take more than a few hours to dry them, given the sun is doing nicely up there. Until I call it a day, I decide to finally focus on fishing so that I can have something nice to set on the fire before going to bed. I¡¯ve got peanuts and a few packs of noodles to work with, but that won¡¯t be very nutritious for the length of time I plan on spending out here. I¡¯ll need some protein. *** July 2nd, 2024 7:12 PM Five hours of fishing, and nothing. Not a single bite. The crazy thing is, I saw them swimming about under there, but nothing was interested in the bait I got. What gives? I guess it was pretty cheap¡­ Groaning, I stop. I guess there¡¯s always tomorrow. Peanuts aren¡¯t so bad, they¡¯re actually one of my favorite foods. The lake water looks pretty clean, so I go and scoop some up in a tiny pan to boil on the stove. Noodles and Peanuts¡­ Yay¡­ I didn¡¯t even bring any salt¡­ It¡¯s not the end of the world, however. I had some ups and downs getting here, and although a few things went wrong I¡¯d say the things that went right stick out to me more. That¡¯s unusual, which is a good thing. Still, my arms are very tired and my legs aren¡¯t doing much better. I¡¯ve been moving non-stop today. Even managed to fall on my butt thanks to a certain pesky neighbor. That¡¯s how I spend the brief twilight before nightfall. Eating a meal that leaves me feeling hungry. I¡¯m about to make for my tent and turn in for the night when I hear something familiar. Pssshhh¡­ It¡¯s that sound again. The same one I heard last night by the road. Crack¡­ ¡­ It¡¯s very subtle. I can¡¯t tell where the sound is coming from. It sounds near and far at the same time, if that makes sense¡­ Either way, I don¡¯t want to spend too much time out in the open, so I open the tent and make to get inside. Shuffling out of my running shoes, I slip into the sleeping bag only to get nice and snug, ready to call it a day. Not hearing much more out of the ordinary, I begin to imagine my favorite animal scampering into its burrow. One prairie dog¡­ Two prairie dogs¡­ Th- BANG!!! I involuntarily jolt upwards to the sound of a gunshot. What the fuck is going on? The first thing that comes to mind is my neighbor has finally lost her marbles. Waiting for something else to happen, nothing does. I¡¯m wide awake now, though. My hopes of finding tranquility out in the woods seems to be going as well as my GPA. I reluctantly get out of my tent and try to make out something in the dark night that has fallen over the lake, but I can¡¯t see much of anything. My cellphone¡¯s light guides me well enough a few feet at a time, but this is going to take a while. A part of me is curious why it was just the one shot. Maybe she¡­ You know. I¡¯m not thrilled to see it or anything, but I¡¯d rather know if someone blew their brains out near me than try going to sleep wondering about it. I wouldn¡¯t be able to catch a wink. Not that knowing would be any better, but I¡¯ve already made it some ways towards her campsite by now. I think her name was¡­ Penelo Asswood or something like that. Probably not Asswood¡­ A dim light is revealed as I keep making my way towards her campsite, and I notice there¡¯s movement in the tent, then I hear a sigh. ¡°¡­ Hello?¡± I call out from where I¡¯m standing. The figure stops moving for a beat before coming out and pointing a flashlight straight at me. I reflexively try to cover my eyes with an arm, but now I can¡¯t see. ¡°Did that startle you?¡± a familiar voice asks me. I grunt before replying, ¡°I thought you beat me to it for a second there. What¡¯re you up to, anyway?¡± She chuckles, but there¡¯s no joy to it. ¡°I thought I saw something¡­ Could have been my imagination, though.¡± I shake my head. What is she going on about? ¡°Well¡­ are you going to keep shooting your gun, or can I go back to sleep?¡± I ask flatly. I¡¯ve put my hand in just the right position to where I can see her, but the light doesn¡¯t blind me. She seems to be in thought before saying, ¡°Don¡¯t be a dickhead. Bring your shit over to my campsite or I¡¯ll do it for you.¡± I narrow my eyes at her before rolling them. Turning back to my camp I hear her rough steps behind me and see the light from her flashlight getting closer. I get the urge to yell at her to fuck off, but she looks like she¡¯s done trying the diplomatic approach. My complaint comes off as pleading more than anything else. ¡°What¡¯s your problem? Why won¡¯t you let me just be on my own?¡±, but she just smiles weakly and keeps going. To my dismay, she makes it to my campsite before me due to her long stride and purposeful gait. She¡¯s taken my sleeping bag, rucksack, and portable stove. Carrying them over to her spot with both arms. I¡¯m seething, but what am I supposed to do about it? I stand in front of the tent with a frown before dismantling everything and taking it with me. The hiking boots and pants that got wet also come along. At least they¡¯re dry now, but this isn¡¯t fair. She¡¯s going to have to answer some of my fucking questions if she doesn¡¯t want me to pop her tires with my knife, which is still in my back pocket. I can walk my ass back to North Bend in the morning if she¡¯s not just planning to kidnap me or some shit. Back at her camp, I put my tent next to hers, and she asks me, ¡°What are you doing? Bring it inside. You see how big my tent is, yours isn¡¯t going to take up much space.¡± I scowl but do as she says. The inside is pretty big. I didn¡¯t expect to find a desk off to one side, which seems to have a pretty detailed map and some circles crossed over it. There are ticks with red string connecting them, too. What the fuck is she up to? Her address to me came suddenly. ¡°Alright, stranger. First things first.¡± she says, putting both her hands on her hips and looking me over. ¡°No going out at night. It¡¯s dangerous.¡± We literally just did that... ¡°No going off on your own. It¡¯s dangerous.¡± I¡¯ve been on my own this entire time¡­ ¡°And lastly, don¡¯t be difficult. I get you¡¯re angry at me, but I have a damn good reason for keeping you close. There¡¯s been enough casualties, and I don¡¯t want to count you among them.¡± She thinks she¡¯s protecting me? Seriously? From what? I¡¯ve had more trouble with her than anything else. This woman¡¯s definitely got a few screws loose. ¡°I don¡¯t get what you want from me. I told you this was supposed to be my get-away from all the bullshit, and you¡¯re pissing all over it!¡± To her credit, she does look a little sorry. Not that it matters, she¡¯s literally forcing me to stay here with her. This is practically abduction. If she thinks this is going to fly, she¡¯s either stupidly stubborn, or just plain na?ve. ¡°Okay, look. I¡¯m sorry about all this, but just call me Penny. That¡¯s what all my friends call me.¡± I snort, but she keeps going. ¡°And for the record, you¡¯re in the middle of the most dangerous woods this side of the state. People have died, and nobody knows why. The only thing that has made it out of here in the last six months has been a corpse.¡± She begins to dig into a red backpack off to the side next to the desk. Pulling out an article with some highlighted parts, she shoves it in my hands. Skeptically bringing it up to my face, I see a familiar name. Montey Webber. Reported missing a month ago. There¡¯s also a few photos vaguely depicting what looks like a man, only he¡¯s got what look like wounds all over. It looks like a piece from the local news station. Turning to look back up at her, I ask, ¡°¡­ So, you weren¡¯t lying when you told me about¨C¡± She looks at me like I¡¯m stupid. ¡°Why would I lie about that? What¡¯s your hold up anyway? You really don¡¯t trust anyone at all, do you? I¡¯ve been trying to warn you, pointing you away from this place, and still you insisted on coming here. Why?¡± she asks me, genuinely curious and accentuating the last word. I have no immediate answer to give. I keep thinking this is to get away from all the ugly in my life, or to deal with nasty feelings that keep pinning me down, but that¡¯s not entirely true. I think¡­ The reason I came out here, why I kept going, was because I want to get lost. I used to have a star to lead my way, but the light has gone, and I haven¡¯t felt like I belong anywhere since. I¡¯m not about to tell her that, though. ¡°¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡± She sighs and pats the top of my head. I want to slap her arm away, but I¡¯m too tired. ¡°You¡¯re a little weird, you know that?¡± Whatever¡­ I¡¯ll be gone in the morning. This was as pointless as anything I ever did. ¡°Anyway,¡± she starts, chuckling. ¡°Let¡¯s get some rest. I¡¯m a light sleeper, don¡¯t worry.¡± With all the confidence in the world, she just smiles at me, and I have to wonder. I¡¯m the weird one? Really? Chapter 7 - Guilt July 2nd, 2024 3:15 PM Looking over the interior of this place I get the feeling their reputation is earned. Next to me I have Mr. and Mrs. Browne looking worried as can be. We¡¯ve yet to be called in to meet a detective, and the officers at the front are behaving worse than nurses twerking for tik-tok in front of a waiting room full of cancer patients. They keep laughing and whooping at pictures on their phones, as if there aren¡¯t citizens to talk to, and from hearing the exchanges I¡¯m almost certain it¡¯s about nudes of women or something like it. One couldn¡¯t help but wonder what the fuck their taxes are going towards if this is the state of the police department. To my right, Mrs. Browne is holding her cellphone in her hands, clutching at it as if Bishop is going to call her back at any moment and explain what the fuck was going through his head before he left. Of course, that¡¯s not going to happen. Knowing him he¡¯s off grid by now. The idea of isolating himself is one he constantly fulfils above everything else, and scampering off into obscurity is one of the few things I know he¡¯s good at. ¡­ I want to punch him. To the surprise of all three of us, a fat man finally calls us into his office. We¡¯ve only been waiting 5 and a half hours. In front of the desk, Mrs. Browne is already recounting what happened. How her son cut all contact with them and how he¡¯s now missing. ¡°Please! You have to find him. He¡¯s not equipped to go off on his own like this! He¡¯ll get himself hurt!¡± she pleads with the man, but as I look at his expression it becomes clear he couldn¡¯t give a fuck. Not even taking notes, he sits with his arms crossed in an aloof demeanour. ¡°I see, I see¡­ but it hasn¡¯t even been 48 hours, has it? And how old did you say he was?¡± the detective asks her. Mrs. Browne looks shocked, but she answers anyway. ¡°He¡¯s 20 years old. Look, the sooner there¡¯s a search the better the chance of finding my son! Please-¡° Abruptly, he cuts her off with a hand in the air while frowning. ¡°Whoa! Look, lady. Maybe he¡¯s just being a little rebel. Besides, he¡¯s old enough to take care of himself at that age, isn¡¯t he? Why don¡¯t you wait a few days, maybe a week, and then come back and ask for help?¡± There was nothing I could see on the news that could have prepared me for what I was seeing in front of me. Was this piece of shit serious? Telling a mother to wait a week for her son to officially become a potential casualty? The look on Mrs. Browne¡¯s face was sheer disbelief. I couldn¡¯t catch a glimpse of Mr. Browne before his fist cracked down on the wooden desk in front of us. ¡°Are you fucking serious? Our son is missing and you¡¯re telling us to wait? What the fuck did they teach you at the academy?¡± The question probably wasn¡¯t going to lead to anything constructive, but it was valid. Mr. Browne was angry, and here we had a man in uniform who wasn¡¯t worth the shit he flushed down the toilet in the morning. ¡°¡­ Excuse me? Who do you think you are? We have many other cases keeping us busy, alright? You¡¯re not the only ones who need help.¡± I¡¯ve observed many useless, worthless men in my young life. Sometimes guys would behave like douchebags because they thought it made them look cool or thought girls would find it impressive how expensive the car their parents bought them was, but the scum in front of us had the balls to try and garner sympathy from the parents of someone missing. Before we got here I had a subtle feeling that nothing would come of it, but Bishop¡¯s mother wanted to try all the same. I didn¡¯t want to be the one to deflate her hopes, but it was inevitable with these swine in uniform. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. It looked like we were going to have to take matters into our own hands. Nothing came of talking to the police, and we found ourselves in front of the station worse off than when we came in. Mrs. Browne was sobbing into her hands. Mr. Browne was clenching his fists and seemed to be holding back a snarl. I wanted to say something, but I came up blank at trying to find something appropriate to share. Trying to make them feel better didn¡¯t seem like it was going to go very well. Too many words had been spoken when there needed to be action. Then I realized something. I had seen the face of Bishop¡¯s Uber driver. It was very brief, but I was confident in my memory. He was a brown-skinned middle-aged man. Maybe middle-eastern. The make of his car was still vivid in my memory, too. ¡°I may have an idea.¡± I started, trying to get Mrs. Browne¡¯s attention. She slowly looked up from her hands at me. ¡°The morning Bishop left I saw his driver. I think that may be worth looking into. With any luck, we could get an idea of where he was dropped off and go from there.¡± Mr. Browne first looked at me, then stepped forward to make a suggestion of his own. ¡°That¡¯s not a bad idea, but maybe it¡¯s time to hire a PI. Cordelia, thank you for your help. We¡¯re grateful for it, believe me.¡± he said, his wife sharing a shaky nod before hugging her husband. That was a solid idea. In a city like Seattle private investigators are very useful depending on what you needed them to look into. My aunt was a cheating slut who rode the cock carousel, but her husband had enough of the right evidence to avoid paying alimony thanks to one of them. ¡°Sounds like a plan. I¡¯ll look on my end, and you¡¯ll look on yours. Don¡¯t worry Mr. and Mrs. Browne. We¡¯ll find Bishop. I won¡¯t give up on him.¡± Mrs. Browne took my hand in hers and gently squeezed. As far as I knew, it was already too late for Bishop and maybe he was lying dead in a ditch somewhere, but I had to put myself forward after everything that¡¯s happened¡­ because I felt guilty. Like I had caused the heartache in these people¡¯s lives. It was tearing me apart. ¡°Thank you, dear¡­¡± she sobbed. *** July 2nd, 2024 6:29 PM Back at the college cafeteria, I had been looking for Uber drivers on my cellphone local to the area, but it looked like it was going to take a while. It didn¡¯t help my friends were constantly urging me to forget about it. I wanted to tell them off, but that wouldn¡¯t help. It was hard to be someone who cared, especially when it came to caring for someone who didn¡¯t care about themselves. ¡°Why are you so serious lately, Cordie?¡± Jordan asks me. She¡¯s one of my better friends, but like everyone else was trying to get me to give up on Bishop. I gave her a wan smile before going back to my cellphone. I was thinking about just calling drivers and chance I get the one Bishop left with. Although¡­ that could get to be pretty expensive after a short amount of time. ¡°Andrew was looking for you earlier. Said he wanted us to go hang out later today.¡± I hadn¡¯t spoken to him since Bishop left. Part of me wanted to never speak to him again. I knew they had good intentions, and that the sight of me worried and toiling like I was set them on edge. Normally I would be yapping away and talking my head off, but lately that hadn¡¯t been the vibe I gave off. I was more serious. More sensitive. Cracking jokes and laughing my troubles away wasn¡¯t enough anymore. And still, a part of me truly felt like forgetting about it all and just accepting the fact that I couldn¡¯t help Bishop. The part of me that was realistic. Then, there was the part of me that knew I would regret it deeply if I didn¡¯t try. I had to give it my best shot now, or I would keep feeling guilty. When I looked at Bishop the day he came out of his room, I liked the sight of him. Like a deer in headlights, my group jeered at him and made him feel smaller. The sight of the 4ft something ¡®man¡¯ cowering in fear, all alone and hopeless to stand up for himself brought me a sense of superiority. Something close to ecstasy through domination. What the fuck was wrong with me? Was that who I was? A fucking predator? Some sick bitch who got off on humiliating someone who couldn¡¯t protect themselves? ¡°You know¡­ I think he has a thing for you.¡± Jordan told me, trying to get me to snap out of my guilty state. At that, I couldn¡¯t help myself. I had to respond. ¡°Well, you can tell Andrew to go fuck himself. I¡¯ve dealt with enough dickheads for one day.¡± Jordan looked taken aback. She wasn¡¯t used to seeing me snap at anyone like that, and I could tell my relationship with several other people would soon sour just as easily. I was a social person, someone who enjoyed the company of others, but now I was pushing them away. I had plenty of reasons to hate Bishop, but now I was beginning to hate myself. If I didn¡¯t find him in time and the worst should happen, I knew what it would mean. I wouldn¡¯t be able to go back to being a bubbly idiot who laughed at unfunny jokes. There would be a barb digging into me that made it impossible. The best I could hope for was to pretend everything was fine. All the while knowing I was the one who caused him to flee. Knowing I was the one who had encouraged him to fucking kill himself¡­ Chapter 8 - Fight or Flight July 3rd, 2024 9:24 AM I find it very awkward sleeping inside of a tent, inside of a bigger tent, and waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs. Last night was very odd to say the least, but it made me realize I should just leave and go somewhere else. North didn¡¯t work out? That¡¯s okay. South may have smaller lakes and uglier scenery, but there¡¯s one thing it doesn¡¯t have. An annoying giant blonde. ¡­ And apparently something causing hikers to go missing. Either way, I¡¯m not above taking advantage of someone else¡¯s cooking and then making like a tree. I get out of my tent and step outside to see her looming over the food. She¡¯s not wearing her jacket, so I can see she¡¯s got ink on her right shoulder. It kind of looks like a phoenix, but I can¡¯t really tell from this angle. Turning around, she catches me staring and quirks an eyebrow. ¡°Looks like we live to breathe another day, huh? Get over here. I made us breakfast.¡± she tells me before patting the thick log behind her. I don¡¯t object. It smells pretty darn good. Taking a seat on the log adjacent to hers, I see her frowning at me. ¡°Really? I don¡¯t bite y¡¯know¡­¡± A flat expression is all she gets from me in response. From what I can tell, she¡¯s likely holding back from rolling her eyes. Taking two plates she puts some of the eggs and bacon on hers, then fills mine up and hands it over. I take a bite and have to hold back from moaning. It¡¯s seasoned with salt, with some cheese on the side, and the bacon is cooked perfectly. I haven¡¯t had real food like this in far too long. She looks a little surprised as she hands me some flat bread to go with it. ¡°Is it good?¡± she asks, to which I enthusiastically nod back. ¡°Good, because I got a few questions for you this morning and I figured I might as well get you on a full stomach.¡± she adds, making me stop for a moment. That¡¯s pretty sneaky, but I have been very evasive from the start¡­ ¡°First question. What¡¯s your name?¡± Oh, right. ¡°Bishop.¡± I tell her after swallowing another mouthful. She leans her head a little to the side as if I¡¯d only given her half an answer. I guess that¡¯s true, but that¡¯s all she¡¯ll get outta me. Sighing, she continues. ¡°Right, then. Is this your first time going camping, Bishop?¡± I¡¯ve done it once as a kid, but never alone, so I nod. She nods back. Figures she would notice. It looks like she¡¯s been doing this for a while, or at least has a fair bit of experience. ¡°And lastly, do you know how to use a gun?¡± Odd question but I answer it anyway with a shake of my head. I¡¯ve never touched one. It must have not been the answer she was looking for because she leans back and gives a disappointed expression. ¡°The reason I ask is because I need someone to help me look around. I get you probably want to leave this place after yesterday, but I could really use your help. I¡¯ll even drive you back myself once we¡¯re finished here. Shouldn¡¯t take more than a week, two at most. How does that sound?¡± Walking back would take many hours, and probably a day or two depending on how dirty I want to get, but she¡¯s offering to give me a free ride? That would actually be very convenient, but I have some reservations. ¡°What do you want me to do, exactly? And don¡¯t take that as any sort of agreement. I¡¯m just asking.¡± That causes her to perk up a bit, and she explains to me that all I need to do is assist her with a couple of things and be alert for signs of anything suspicious. She knows I¡¯m not a tracker or any such thing, but If I had to guess she just wants the company. I¡¯m not good company, though¡­ So far I¡¯ve been actively keeping my distance. Munching down on the delicious food it dawns on me that maybe I need her more than she needs me. Normally people don¡¯t go out of their way to even talk to me, but she¡¯s clearly trying to get me on her good graces. ¡°I want you to accompany me when I go searching. That, and having a second pair of eyes would be very useful. Don¡¯t think I¡¯m looking to take advantage of you or anything, I don¡¯t expect you to do everything around here, however, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll have fun learning about camping as we go. How about it?¡± ¡­ I suppose it wouldn¡¯t be that bad. Seeing my folks so soon would be really embarrassing. Just thinking about it is making me feel sad. After all that¡¯s happened, I don¡¯t feel like talking to them anytime soon. I get mom wanted me to move on and get better, but dad never tried to sympathize with me. Besides¡­ it isn¡¯t as though they¡¯d even be looking for me. The fact that both of them are now taking the hard stance only makes me want to cut contact even more. Maybe what I¡¯m doing is childish, but I get it. I¡¯m supposed to be a man. I¡¯m supposed to learn to deal with it. I can¡¯t cry about it. I can¡¯t talk to them because they¡¯d just hear excuses no matter what I told them. If I don¡¯t do what they want, then I¡¯m a rebel. If I do and I fail, I¡¯m just not trying hard enough. Fuck all that noise. The last thing I need is to hear them talk down to me when they arrogantly believe I have it easier than they did at my age. I would feel more alone with them than I would all by myself out here, and who knows? Maybe Penelo Asswood isn¡¯t so bad¡­ Ah, that¡¯s right¡­ Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ¡°What did you say your name was?¡± I ask, a little embarrassed at making her tell me again because I forgot. ¡°Penelope Ashwood, but you can call me Penny.¡± she says with a smile on her face, and for the first time I notice her features are actually kind of striking. Her cheekbones are high, and her jaw is nicely shaped. Her lips are thin, but when she smiles her dimples are very noticeable. Her bright green eyes feel as though they¡¯re pulling me in, but I look away. Maybe I blushed because she starts chuckling. That doesn¡¯t mean anything, though. I haven¡¯t had a crush in forever. Not since I was a kid and got teased by a girl or two in kindergarten. She just gives off the presence of an assertive person, I guess. When I turn to see her face, she¡¯s composed herself and gives me a level look. ¡°¡­ Okay Penny. It¡¯s a deal, but don¡¯t expect too much. I might not be all that useful.¡± I tell her, rubbing the back of my neck with one hand. ¡°That¡¯s fine. I can teach you how to use one of my revolvers.¡± she says nonchalantly, which bubbles up more than a little bit of concern in me. I¡¯m not thrilled about holding a gun, but chances are I won¡¯t have to use it. The most I can provide is some company, which is exactly what I¡¯d been trying to avoid this whole time. I guess some talking for tasty food isn¡¯t such a bad bargain. At least I¡¯ll be getting paid for it with housewife level cooking for my trouble. *** July 3rd, 2024 1:02 PM Back inside the tent Penny stands in front of the map on the desk. She¡¯s showing me places she wants to go look at. Apparently they¡¯re points of interest regarding the missing people and we might even find a corpse or two when we go looking. The thought of such a discovery doesn¡¯t make me all that enthusiastic¡­ ¡°So¡­ here¡­ and here.¡± Penny juts a finger on the map twice. ¡°The western parts of the forest seem like a good place to start so I want to check that out first.¡± I¡¯m skeptical, but too curious not to ask questions. ¡°What makes you think these spots are going to turn anything up?¡± I ask, and she looks down at me with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Did you think I just randomly picked all this out of a hat? I spoke with the families of the missing people. Most of them, at least.¡± Why is this so important to her? ¡°So you¡¯re trying to help them find their folks? Is that it?¡± Penny looks at the map with a frown before she says, ¡°What¡¯s left of them. Yeah¡­¡± she looks away, and for but a moment I notice her downturned expression barely surfacing prior to snapping out of it with a shake of her head. ¡°Anyway, That¡¯s where we¡¯re starting. Here.¡± With that, she gives me some stuff on the table. First is a small flashlight which seems to have some impressive range. When I turn it on and point it at the tent wall a bright white circle illuminates it and I get the feeling it¡¯ll really come in handy if I find myself in a dark place or stranded at night. Next she hands me a few bandages. I can see she¡¯s got bottles of alcohol on the far edge of the desk, too. She obviously expected to be here a while, but that begs the question... ¡°¡­ Hey, can I ask you something?¡± I start, a little nervous. ¡°Of course, Bishop. Now¡¯s the time.¡± ¡°Okay then. Why did nobody else come with you? Why were you planning on doing it alone? You have all these things, and it¡¯s just you?¡± She doesn¡¯t answer, not right away. ¡°¡­ There was nobody I was comfortable taking with me. Not for this.¡± I mull that over. Does that mean I¡¯m an acceptable liability since we barely know each other? That doesn¡¯t make me angry or anything. I am kind of leeching off her, but if it was just searching for missing people that doesn¡¯t make much sense. Well, it doesn¡¯t really matter to me. I almost didn¡¯t ask and I can tell she¡¯s not comfortable talking about it further from the expression I see on her face. She¡¯s conflicted, and I know better than to keep prodding further. I hate it when people do that to me. I put the bandages and flashlight in my jacket, then she takes out something I¡¯m not entirely comfortable with. ¡°Here, this is the most important thing you need to have with you at all times. I know you don¡¯t know how to use it yet, but I¡¯ll teach you.¡± She puts the small revolver in my hand and it feels surprisingly heavy. ¡°Remember, never put your finger over the trigger. Have it resting on the side unless you plan to shoot. Okay?¡± she asks me, leaning down and eyeing my face for affirmation, but just looking at the thing in both my hands, noticing how I¡¯ve begun to shake a bit. Penny snaps her fingers a few times in front of my face to get my attention again. ¡°It¡¯s not hard. Come on, I¡¯ll show you.¡± We go to stand outside just a few feet from the tent, and she crouches down to show me proper form and how to aim the thing. I¡¯m still really uncomfortable with the gun, but more than that¡­ her boobs are pushing against my back making me squirm a bit. ¡°A little higher¡­ yeah. Good. Now, remember this feeling. This stance. Slowly put your hand on the trigger now and keep aiming at that tree.¡± She¡¯s put her big hand over mine, and I¡¯m getting really nervous at how much she¡¯s touching me. It¡¯s not arousing to me, I just don¡¯t like being touched, not even by my parents. I do as she says and squeeze the trigger. The loud bang that sounds out makes my ears ring, but the initial shock washes over me and we try again, and again until all 6 shots are spent. Penny seems satisfied because she let go of me after the 3rd shot, getting me to do it all on my own. Apparently I get a passing grade on this, at least. ¡°Look at you, already putting Billy the Kid to shame.¡± she quips. Despite her wit, I still feel shaken up. The almost too hard clap on my shoulder makes me yelp, causing her to laugh out loud at my distress. Although it was a clear attempt at trying to diffuse my nerves from going further into the realm of fight or flight, I feel a bit of adrenaline from the entire situation. My glare ends up coming off as even more funny to her despite the fact that I¡¯ve immediately begun considering just abandoning her already. For a moment, I consider cursing her out but instead turn away from her so that she doesn¡¯t see how upset I am. Penny¡¯s laughter turns to low chuckles after a few moments and she seems to go back to the tent to get ready to leave. As she¡¯s inside, I consider making a run for the road and leaving, but I feel stuck in place. The tightness in my chest and the shakes have started, and although it seems she missed the clear signs of my panic attack, I still feel utterly vulnerable. Looking down at the gun in my hand, it feels much heavier than it did before. Turning it towards my face, I slowly put it in my mouth and wrap my finger on the trigger, barrel facing up and out the top of my head. ¡®It¡¯s not like anyone would even give a shit if you fucking killed yourself¡¯ Click ¡­ Of course. Chapter 9 - Missing Girl July 3rd, 2024 3:52 PM It¡¯s been about 20 minutes since we left the camp. Penny brought us to a high hill some ways north-west of the lake. She said this would help us find a better way of getting around, but I was skeptical. There were a lot of tall trees all over the place blocking much of the surrounding area. I thought to myself that climbing a tree all the way to the top would work better, but I wasn¡¯t about to suggest such a thing with Ms. Happy-go-lucky over here. ¡°Hmm¡­ I think we should make our way down this way.¡± she said after a few minutes of surveying, her own compass in hand. Despite how unprepared I was, at least I thought to bring my own map and compass. Back before we took off, she made a point to tell me no matter what I managed to lose out here, those two things could mean life or death. Following the bright red jacket on her back, I was having a hard time keeping up with her, but she didn¡¯t seem to mind going slower to accommodate me. We took our time traversing through the forest like that, weaving through branches and rough patches of ground that made me stumble more than a few times. At one point, she looked back and smiled, trying to encourage me. I would have found it aggravating normally, but I didn¡¯t feel as though she was mocking me. The trees were no longer as dense when we came upon a creek with a little bit of water running down the slope. Penny took out her map then and tried to see where we likely were. ¡°Okay¡­ Let¡¯s see.¡± she muttered. As she was doing her thing, I figured I might as well take a look around our vicinity and stumbled upon some rocks. It was slippery and there was moss along where the water was going, making it easy to have accidents if one wasn¡¯t careful¡­ which was pretty much just me. Penny looked over at me to make sure I was okay, and her eyes went wide. Turning to look down where her eyes were, I saw it too. A boot. Barely noticeable due to the discoloration and general wear and tear. Penny put her map back in her jacket pocket and immediately came to inspect it. She turned it this way and that, looking inside. ¡°This is a woman¡¯s boot. Size 7 and a half. It must have been out here for a while¡­ months if I had to guess.¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say with my mouth hanging open looking dumbfounded. She took out her cellphone, looked into the photos, and showed me something before elaborating. ¡°Look at the boots of the girl on the middle. They match.¡± I nodded, surprised at the resemblance. The shape was very similar, but the color was somewhat different to the one in her hand. If this thing was just sitting here for months, then that made sense. ¡°This boot belonged to Ashley Fletcher. I¡¯m sure of it.¡± Penny declared. Holy shit. We actually found a clue. The photo itself was also interesting. There she was, in the middle of what looked like her father to her right, to her left perhaps a brother. She had an infectious smile despite a few missing teeth. It made her look cute more than anything, and her auburn hair complimented her plain but pretty face. Suddenly I felt a pang of grief. This woman was likely dead. Her radiance gone, and none knew what had happened to her¡­ This boot was the only thing left of her now. Penny continued to share with me what she learned. ¡°When I spoke with Ashley¡¯s folks, they told me she was a very experienced camper and hiker. She often did videos outdoors for her followers online, and the abruptness of her disappearance was one of the most concerning throughout the community.¡± ¡°When did she go missing?¡± I asked. Penny showed me another photo, this one of an old-fashioned yellow slug bug car. It was shiny and looked to be very well maintained despite being abandoned along the road that led to the Lake. She explained it was found by a private investigator two months back somewhere along the road to the lake. It was eventually towed, but the police never even bothered to look into it despite having the ability to easily check it out. ¡°The funny thing is, when Ashley¡¯s family looked into what remained inside her car it was almost as if she had never even begun to put her camp together. The tent and everything was all still inside the trunk, so I don¡¯t think she even made it to the lake. Her case was one of the most suspicious.¡± I mulled that over for a few moments, not sure where we were supposed to go with that information. I¡¯m no detective, but Penny seems to have clearly given this a lot of thought. I started wondering how I could possibly help her in all this, but only came up blank. She must have seen the expression on my face because she put a hand on my shoulder and told me, ¡°Look. I get this might be scary, but I really appreciate your company. This kind of stuff will get to anyone. I¡¯m scared, too.¡± She got the wrong idea, but it made me feel better anyway. I nodded and dared to give her a wry smile. She returned it with a proper smile of her own. We spent a few more minutes looking for more, but eventually Penny realized we¡¯d have to settle for the boot. She said it was more than what she was hoping for, and that we were lucky to come upon it like we did. ¡°C¡¯mon Bishop. I¡¯ll put this in a plastic bag and we can keep looking somewhere else. There¡¯s still a lot of ground to cover.¡± Following behind her It occurred to me that people didn¡¯t just take off their boots in the middle of the forest for no reason. Was Ashley running? From who? ¡­from what? *** July 3rd, 2024 6:35 PM Penny was snacking on some jerky while working on something. At first I wanted to bring up the boot and talk about it a little more, but she seemed busy setting it up. I ended up just sitting on one of the logs and watched her working while I munched on my peanuts. I figured she would tell me when she was done. There were little boxes with screens on them sitting on the log opposite me. It slowly clicked in my head what she was up to. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Trail cams. Did she want to get videos of the wildlife? That conflicted with what I thought she was up to. I thought she just wanted to find the missing people and give their folks the closure they were never going to get from the police. Was this necessary? After a while she finished putting everything together and I see she¡¯s checking the video feed on a laptop after taking a memory card from one of the cams. Sitting on a log she nods as though she¡¯s satisfied and I finally ask one of my many questions. ¡°Are any of the families paying you to do this?¡± Penny practically freezes at my rather typical question. I¡¯m not sure why that would bother her, but if it isn''t that, then what else? Looking over at me, Penny shakes her head. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t come here for any money. Everything has been out of my own pocket.¡± ¡°Then why? I mean, really. You seem to have enough stuff to last you more than a month, not just a week or two.¡± I press, and Penny looks at me as if she¡¯s considering it. ¡°¡­ Why are you here, Bishop?¡± she asks me instead, probably trying to side-step the question. I roll my eyes. ¡°Come on¡­ I asked you first.¡± ¡°If you want me to tell you that, then you have to be willing to tell me, too.¡± Bleh¡­ I really don¡¯t want to get into it, but I guess that¡¯s fair. ¡°Uh¡­ Sorry I asked,¡± I start, having to look away from her attention. I didn¡¯t mean to step on her toes, but It feels like I did just that. I should probably be more considerate, but it¡¯s difficult talking about stuff sometimes¡­ Penny doesn¡¯t seem to mind, however. Looking up over the horizon, the sun is slowly leaving us and she ponders for a moment, putting a finger to her chin. I just stare, wondering what is going through her head, but I don¡¯t read minds, and I feel as though I¡¯ve asked enough stupid questions for one day. One more couldn¡¯t hurt, though. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± She looks back at me, and her expression seems to fall for a moment before she suggests, ¡°I think one of us should stay awake tonight. Just in case.¡± ¡°What? Why?¡± I don¡¯t understand why she would suggest that. She already set up the trail cams. The whole point is to sleep through the night and see what happens in the morning while we sleep. There¡¯s no reason to go through the trouble, is there? ¡°I just have a feeling it would¡­ be the smart thing to do. Call it a woman¡¯s intuition.¡± ¡°Look, I¡¯m sorry I asked you a clearly personal question, but does this have anything to do with that?¡± I ask, and Penny chuckles at that. ¡°Not at all! Look, I¡¯ll tell you everything, I promise. I just want you to open up to me first before I do. I don¡¯t mean to poke you, but I can tell you have a hard time with other people when it comes to personal stuff. I get it, Bishop. Don¡¯t worry about how I feel. I get it, so just trust me on this¡­ okay?¡± My face scrunches up as though I just tasted a lemon, but maybe she¡¯s got a point¡­ What gives, though? Now I want to talk about stuff even less¡­ Although maybe she¡¯s right. Maybe I do need to talk about some stuff, but it¡¯s not going to be today. ¡°Fine. Whatever¡­¡± I look back at her as I make my way towards the tent, and she gives me an apologetic look. God damn it¡­ There¡¯s nothing I trust less than someone trying to help me. What does she even get out of it¡­ ¡­ And why do I have to be such an asshole about it? *** July 4th, 2024 1:23 AM The sounds of the night forest and the gentle breathing of the little guy sleeping inside his tent were all my ears could focus on. Ever since I met him at the caf¨¦ I had a feeling it would end up like this. Too many people had come to this forsaken lake only to never be found again. I won''t let Bishop become the latest victim. As soul crushingly painful as it was to think about, the realization that I would have worn a white dress earlier today, hands entwined with my fianc¨¦¡¯s before we both made our vows and promised to love each other until death do us part, makes my face grow hot with rage. I don¡¯t know what happened to Nathan, but he knew what he was doing. There¡¯s no chance he would have gotten lost in the wilderness by any sort of foolish accident. Not my Nathan. For close to six months now, starting with a family of five, people have been disappearing. When I saw Montey Webber on the news, I nearly fell on my knees crying in hopelessness. But that didn¡¯t change my course. Merely my goal. The day they told me Nathan was missing, that was the day my heart sank. He told me he wanted to go for a final trip before we started a new chapter of our lives and I had foolishly let him go on his own. I didn¡¯t want to come off as the overbearing sort, the kind of wife that doesn¡¯t let her husband so much as breathe without her consent. So I had merely seen him off to go on his own that day. Instead of joining him, I went to visit family, something I could do at any time. It never once occurred in my mind that would be the last time I ever saw him. And now he was likely dead. The man who claimed my heart, taken from me. I squeezed the wood on the rifle¡¯s stock, my eyes red with grief and anger, and then I heard it. Crack I knew it was some animal. To me, that¡¯s what made the most sense, given the history of the people who were missing. When a hiker or camper thinks of wolves, they don¡¯t feel as afraid as they might when a bear comes by. A pack of wolves can be made to flee with a mere gunshot. A bear is another story. Washington is home to black bears, and there have been reports of some who are more aggressive and ravenous, actively killing humans. If I had to guess, that was it. It was unfortunate but those who didn¡¯t come prepared to defend themselves or went to sleep in a vulnerable position were merely asking to be killed by such a creature. Before I left this place to go drink and smoke myself to death, I would kill as many god damn bears as I could. But first I had to try and help the missing people¡¯s families. I did promise I would reach out to them and provide any solace I could. To at least let the memory of their loved ones rest in peace. To help them reach the closure I myself was torn with grief over. I knew that in coming here, I very well might find Nathan¡­ I knew there was a chance of that. So when Bishop found Ashley¡¯s boot, my heart panged with sudden grief and terror at the possibility of finding his body. I didn¡¯t give a shit if I hunted enough black bears to make them an endangered species at this point. I had to do this. I had to kill them. I knew it was wrong. These things happened, but clearly they were happening too often. My revenge wasn¡¯t entirely selfish. There was a real reason to be made at culling the fucking things. Crack¡­ Crack¡­ Pshhh¡­ Turning off the center ceiling light abruptly, I took my stance. Darkness enveloped us. Crack Suddenly¡­ silence. I had simultaneously brought up my rifle to aim. The latest sound my target. For a moment I entertained the idea of just shooting at eye-level. Maybe I got the mother fucker between the eyes, but I held off. Moments passed¡­ and nothing. I remained still to focus on a huff, or another movement, anything. Yet that was it. Even the wind seemed to halt as only Bishop¡¯s gentle breathing was present. It served to calm my nerves, yet also to remind me of what was at stake. If I had been alone, yesterday would have been the day I chose to start hunting them down, but I couldn¡¯t do that yet. Before any of that, I had to check off the places on my map with Bishop and drive him back to Seattle. I was yearning for the hunt, to pull my trigger and end them all, but¡­ Crack¡­ I had to bide my time and wait. I would get my chance. It would show itself. It already had, really. Once morning came, I would finally see it. At least one of my night vision trail cams must have caught sight of it. There was no fucking way they hadn¡¯t. Chapter 10 - Loss July 4th, 2024 9:05 AM Morning had come and I found Penny sitting on her chair, snoozing while holding her rifle between her legs, hands on its barrel with her head down. Thinking better than to wake her up, I decided to get myself ready to start the day. I had only made noodles once since I got here, so I figured now was a good time for it. The inside of the tent was pretty organized, all things considered, but I didn¡¯t want to just leech off her the whole time if I could help it. I wasn¡¯t some kid who couldn¡¯t take care of himself, after all. More than once she could have snapped at me, or condescendingly pointed out my flaws, but she was very patient with me so far. Clearly I was holding her back from progressing in her endeavors, and I knew that, but if it bothered her I hadn¡¯t seen anything that gave it away. The sight of the morning sun on the water was beautiful. A feeling of belonging or euphoria washed over me. I felt a calmness settle as I took in the fresh scents, the gentle ripples of the lake, the sounds of birds and the occasional insect. It was definitely a sight to behold. It only made me look forward to the rest of the day, but one thing crossed my mind, threatening to ruin everything prior. I wondered what he would have thought of it. And just like that, my mood had gone from refreshing to depressing. I was used to suddenly feeling this way, however. It surprised me how easy it was to push it back. To keep it at bay, despite it making its presence known over and over again every so often. If I were back at my room in the college dorms, I might have given in. But I wasn¡¯t alone right now. I had¡­ a friend? Was Penny my friend? No, she wouldn¡¯t want to be friends with someone like me. Would she? I had but to ask. Yet if I were to ask her that, I¡¯d need courage. Why did it matter? Why would I want to be her friend? It¡¯d only hurt to realize she wouldn¡¯t agree with the sentiment. I was getting ahead of myself. We¡¯re merely strangers who happened to pass by each other¡­ right? This was how it usually went when I tried to break past my insecurity. Why I was stuck in place. Asking Penny such a simple question would likely result in a simple answer. Why was I afraid of what I would hear? I couldn¡¯t possibly know what she¡¯d say. I hadn¡¯t known her all that long. Yet there was something about her that I felt was worthy of some consideration. Perhaps she could help me. The way only a friend could¡­ I had only ever truly had one friend in my whole life, despite being the only child of two middle-class parents. When I was growing up, I had Peter. At the recollection my eyes began to sting and my throat became somewhat clogged at the onset of what was likely a bout of crying. I managed to stop the grief again, however. It was getting easier. I had to acknowledge it. I had to accept it. It had happened. The longer I kept it buried, the longer it would keep holding me back¡­ So I thought back to the final day I spent with my brother. *** The sound of the bell ringing marked the start of a rush all over the school. I never bothered to join in on the shoving and pushing. Day¡¯s end for classes was always a welcome moment. After school we¡¯d have an hour or two to mess around. ¡°Hey Bishop, did you do your homework for science?¡± asked Peter with his raspy voice. We had been walking on the sidewalk past the convenience store next to school and were making our way around town, just killing time until we felt like going home. There was no rush. If anything, we enjoyed spending our days outside more than staying cooped up. ¡°Yeah. Did you?¡± I replied. ¡°Nope. Can you let me see how you did yours? I¡¯m having a bit of a hard time getting it.¡± It wasn¡¯t unusual Peter asked me for help. Despite being half a head shorter than him, I was the smart one. Sometimes our mothers would joke about how we had a friendship not unlike a cat and dog. I could be pretty sly and cunning when I wanted to get my way, but I¡¯d always follow him around and usually we would just end up playing outside. Peter wasn¡¯t very fond of studying and neither was I, but he loathed it. ¡°You won¡¯t learn anything if you don¡¯t try it yourself, you know. Maybe if you read the textbook instead of using it to collect dust you would keep up with me,¡± I told him, a smirk on my face before I lightly shoved my shoulder on his arm and ran off. ¡°Hey! Not fair! Just lemme copy your work!¡± he would shout before breaking into a sprint to catch up with me. He always caught me, and I liked that. It felt good to have someone I could be completely comfortable with and not feel inferior to in any way. Despite the usual jostling and playful remarks, we never hurt each other¡¯s feelings. At least, I don¡¯t think we did¡­ Before the day ended, we came to stop at the docks where the boats stayed, swaying in the waves that came off the sea. Sometimes we came here. It was quiet and bums usually stayed far away from the area due to the smell coming off the waters. They tended to just be drugged out of their minds in the city where they set up tents and makeshift cardboard houses. Even as kids we found it really weird to see them nodding off to one side while their eyes remained wide open. The sight and smell of them was dreadful. One time, Peter stepped on a syringe and had to go get checked for shit at a hospital. That was the only incident we needed to stay away from druggies and the homeless for good. On a bench after we¡¯d had a talk about who our least favorite teachers were, he suddenly brought up something that I found¡­ unusual. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡°Bishop¡­ Where do you think we go after we die?¡± The question made me consider a few things, but I often answered before I gave it too much thought, just trying to say whatever first came to mind. That¡¯s how casual I felt around my best friend. I never stopped to consider what he truly meant at that moment. If only I had¡­ ¡°I don''t think we go anywhere. We just go to sleep and don¡¯t wake up anymore.¡± Peter stopped to consider that for a few beats before he nodded. ¡°I think that¡¯s fine, then.¡± I looked at his face. He wasn¡¯t smiling, instead, his eyes were halfway closed, and his chin was pointing downwards. He looked¡­ somber. The few times I tried looking back at this exact memory, I would always wonder if I had said the wrong thing. If I should have said anything else. If that would have been enough. ¡°Why do you ask?¡± He returned my gaze and simply said, ¡°Because at some point, we all go, and I¡¯d like to know where I¡¯m going.¡± I was no sage. I had no answers to give. Nobody truly knew what happened when one died, but I knew one thing. When you¡¯re gone, you¡¯re gone. That¡¯s it. Game over. So when I didn¡¯t see Peter at school the next day, I told my parents. We didn¡¯t think anything of it at first, but I had a bad feeling. The next day he failed to show up again. At that point, I went over to his house myself and found that his parents had moved. Peter didn¡¯t ever mention they were considering it. I called his phone, but there was no answer. It wouldn¡¯t be until a week later that the news covered it. I remember that moment, as burned into my mind as anything could be. My father was sitting on the couch, my mom was cooking dinner. I was just coming down the stairs to ask her if we had any soda. Anxious as I was, I was doing my best to pass the time and try to focus on other things, when I heard his name from the living room and turned to see what the news lady had to say. ¡°Local teenager Peter Ingray sadly passed away as the result of suicide. His mother shared with us how he had been the victim of bullying at his school and how that led to him taking his own life. The boy was in the middle of finishing his third year of high school when¡­¡± Slowly, sound became muffled as I heard the words. My mother¡¯s touch upon my shoulder came as a horrible shock of electricity through my entire body, and when I quickly turned to see, she had the same shocked expression on her face as I did. My father couldn¡¯t believe it, either. He merely said, ¡°¡­ Bullying?¡± before turning to glance at me with a look of searching, as if my pale face had any answers. Expressionless, I slowly shook my head. Peter had never been bullied. We had spent our entire youth together. I could count on a single hand the number of hours a day we were apart from sunrise to sunset. Bullying?... I didn¡¯t believe it. Peter was alive, I told myself. Someone had to have lied about it. But why? What was happening? ¡°¡­ Spoke with us on the tragedy. Teachers and students alike shared how shocking it was to hear about their friend¡¯s passing.¡± The news lady showed a reel of what several other kids at our school said. None of them agreed with the bullying. It was completely out of character. That wasn¡¯t what gripped me, however. My friend¡­ My brother. He couldn¡¯t be dead. Not him. It didn¡¯t make any sense whatsoever. This had to be a lie. It took me seeing the death certificate to accept that I had lost a part of my soul. Why¡­ Why did this happen? *** Looking at the fish swimming under the water, I could feel the hot tears streaming down my face. The uneven breathing and labored whimpering coming out of me unbidden. Then she was there, both her arms wrapped around my torso, not saying anything. Just letting me settle. Eventually I did ask her, more a whisper than anything else. ¡°Penny¡­ are we friends?¡± She didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Of course we are.¡± If Penny had asked me to tell her why I was crying, I would have, but she wouldn¡¯t try to pull anything out of me. She had made it clear that if I needed to get something off my chest, she would be there to listen. That was enough for me to calm down and realize that I wasn¡¯t alone. Not anymore. After Penny had her breakfast, we finally decided to plan out the rest of the day and she went around collecting her memory cards from all of the trail cams. I was actually very curious about what they had picked up last night as well. I had a restful sleep, but she looked like she still needed a few hours. I felt a little guilty, thinking I woke her up with my less than manly display¡­ The more memory cards she went through, however, the more consternation I could see building in her features. She slipped the last one into the USB port, and I came to stand behind her to watch it, too. It showed a night-vision camera looking down over the trees, directly at our tent from the southern view. I heard a crack and an odd noise, but there was nothing there. It was subtle, then there were two more cracks, but again, nothing to be seen. The lights in the tent turned off, and the sound seemed to die down significantly. After a few moments, there were two more cracks before silence claimed the night once more. ¡°I don¡¯t understand¡­¡± I didn¡¯t either. Penny¡¯s confusion was plain to see, but I had no insight to offer¡­ However, I did notice one thing, or rather, its absence. ¡°That¡¯s weird. I expected to hear more of that soda can opening sound to go along with it, but I guess not this time.¡± She whirled around to face me and asked me to elaborate in detail. ¡°Oh, uh¡­ when I first put up my tent along the road, back when you offered to drive me up to the lake and I said no, I slept in my sleeping bag. That night, I heard cracks like those along with this ¡®Psshhh¡¯ sound before I went to bed.¡± She mulled that over, asking me to explain further what it sounded like. I explained it was just the same as in her video-feed. ¡°Oh, and I also heard it before you shot your rifle the other night.¡± That got her attention twice-over. ¡°You heard the cracking?¡± ¡°Yeah. Why? It¡¯s just twigs snapping, isn¡¯t it?¡± Penny¡¯s face went pale. ¡°Bishop. I think you¡¯re lucky to be alive.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked, incredulous. ¡°The reason I came out here, the real reason, is to hunt down black bears. I think they¡¯re the ones who have been making hikers disappear. There¡¯s most likely a very aggressive and bloodthirsty bear rummaging through the woods killing people in their sleep. It probably comes out at night. In case you don¡¯t know, not a single creature on earth has as good a sense of smell as a bear. Not even wolves or hounds.¡± That made a shiver run down my spine. ¡°But¡­ what about the other sound?¡± I asked her, and she merely waved it off. ¡°Probably just its exhalations. I¡¯m telling you, it¡¯s a black bear. A nasty one.¡± But we hadn¡¯t seen it on her trail cam. So where was this black bear? Even I was aware we hadn¡¯t seen any tracks along the ground to prove this theory of hers yet, but then again we had explored merely one section of the woods so far. ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll see it one of these nights, trust me. I know it¡¯s out here somewhere.¡± She got up and went to set up the memory cards inside the cams again, but I wasn¡¯t sure. Penny knew more about hunting than I did, of course she did, she even knew how to use a rifle, but I¡¯d believe it when I saw it. Still, chances were that she was right on the money. Who was I to argue? We went inside the tent and picked out another spot to search. In a dozen minutes, we were ready for our second exploration of the woods, only now, I was a little more on edge and paid just a little more attention to my surroundings¡­ Chapter 11 - Swamp Ass July 4th, 2024 2:04 PM After more asking around I finally managed to get in touch with someone who actually interacted with Bishop before he left. Robert Hawthorne, the guy who had bought Bishop¡¯s desktop computer off him for a ¡®steal¡¯. Whatever the fuck that meant. I wasn¡¯t very tech-savvy, but I guess Bishop got ripped off or something. Typical, really. ¡°Oh yeah, the little guy lives one floor up so I can hear him whacking it at night. Made me very curious why he didn¡¯t want to sell the hard drive along with it, but I think the guy¡¯s a freak. Probably into Futanari if I had to guess.¡± I didn¡¯t know what the fuck that was, and the smell of this retard¡¯s room was enough to make me puke, but I was resolved to get something out of this visit. At this point I wasn¡¯t picky about what the little idiot was up to. Shifting in his seat, Robert lifted his glasses from his fat nose and looked up at me. ¡°So¡­ is it true?¡± he asked me, making me scrunch up my own nose in response. ¡°What are you on about? Is what true?¡± He looked around a bit, as if he was about to step over a line. I shuddered internally at what he could possibly be talking about. ¡°Y¡¯know¡­ were you and Browne dating or something? Was it an open relationship? I can tell you get around¡­ how does 50 bucks soun-¡± I cleared my throat. Loudly. ¡°Look,¡± I started, really having to hold back from shattering his pathetic ego, ¡°I just need one thing from you, Robert. Can you somehow find his search history? Anything digital telling about where he might have gone? It would be very helpful in finding him. I¡¯m not here to waste your time, and this does involve a missing person, so the sooner the better.¡± Robert looked somewhat berated. I had a mind to punch him in the face and kick his balls¨C if he had any, but that could come after. Right now as much as the smell of swamp ass and cum rags was threatening to make me hurl, I did need to pursue all avenues of investigation. On the bright side, there was no fucking way it could get worse than dealing with this failed abortion of a man. ¡°Yeah, sure¡­ the short answer is that I can¡¯t find his search history without the hard drive. But that¡¯s not the only way to find out what he¡¯s been up to. If I can hack into his accounts on social media or whatever then we could probably get somewhere. You¡¯d be surprised how easy it is to get someone¡¯s information online if you know where to look.¡± I quirked an eyebrow at his ugly face. ¡°And is that something you could do?¡± Robert¡¯s disgusting, plaque covered teeth revealed a repulsive grin. ¡°For a price¡­¡± I narrowed my eyes, daring him to ask for it. Who knows? He might grow some manners if he lost an eye. Sheepishly, he winced before muttering, ¡±Say¡­ a hundred bucks¡­?¡± I whipped out my wallet and practically slapped the bills on his dirty desk, then added an additional 20. ¡°Keep the change. Might need to buy some fucking soap one day.¡± His sneer told of annoyance, but this was just business. If he couldn¡¯t come up with anything, I had more than a few ways to get rid of someone like this loser. Bishop felt the sting of my barbs, but that was nothing. I could be a ruthless bitch if I wanted to. My mistake was letting my anger loose on someone who didn¡¯t deserve it. Truth be told, I wasn¡¯t in the mood for fucking around anymore. Leaving the disgusting unit of Robert the fatass, I continued to pursue the Uber route. Despite days of searching, I hadn¡¯t found Bishop¡¯s driver. Having blown over a hundred bucks moments ago I was getting somewhat strapped for cash, and I didn¡¯t want to bother my parents unless I absolutely had to. After receiving a call earlier, I learned Bishop¡¯s parents had found their PI to start searching for him yesterday. I could only hope that bore fruit somehow, but I wasn¡¯t about to sit and wait when I could be doing something, too. *** The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Back at my place, Jordan had come by to check in on me. I was more than happy to see she still wanted to talk to me despite how much I¡¯d changed recently. She seemed to get on board with it in spite of everything going on. ¡°Any updates on the Bishop situation?¡± Jordan asked. ¡°I might have found a new lead, but only time will tell¡­¡± I¡¯d known Jordan since we were little. She understood me far better than most others at the college, but I could feel the slight tension in the air. She was supportive of me, she always had been, but at the same time she knew how bad this was for my nerves. Turns out constantly being on edge all the time makes you annoying to be around. ¡°Okay Cordie, but you know you can still hang out with us, right? It¡¯s been a while since you joined us at the cafeteria¡­¡± Actually, It hadn¡¯t even been half a week since I abstained from our group, but I could see the worry in a possible precedent I was beginning to set, and it hurt seeing her worry about me like this. I wanted to hug Jordan and join her because I knew the only reason she hung out with the gang was pretty much just me. I was her number one, and she was mine. A few times, she actually joked about how me being pushy with Bishop, trying to be a friend, felt like I was cheating on her. Silly girl, but that¡¯s my Jordan. I couldn¡¯t blame her, she was just trying to help in her own way, however, I knew she had no stake further than me when it came to this. My toiling and hair pulling was the only thing she wanted to resolve. She didn¡¯t care if Bishop disappeared forever. She didn¡¯t have to. This was my fault, and I would resolve it. It was that simple. ¡°I¡¯ll join you guys eventually, don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m just really focused on other things right now,¡± was my response. It was all I could promise. She put her cinnamon hand over my milky white and gently squeezed. I was grateful for Jordan. She was irreplaceable, but she wasn¡¯t the only one. All I could feel was relief that it was just Bishop, as horrible as that sounded. It made me take it all the more seriously, because once he was safe and sound, I would slap him across the fucking face and tell Jordan all about it. I would tell her about how disgusting Robert¡¯s room was, about how he¡¯s a filthy jerk-off and how Bishop¡¯s hard drive missing was suspicious. I wanted to tease Bishop about it already. I¡¯d ask him, ¡°What do you have in that fucking thing that you need to hide away, huh?¡± How I wanted to see him squirm and look away in sheer guilt at what I was insinuating. But more than anything, I wanted to hug him, the same way Jordan was hugging me now. Friends don¡¯t let friends suffer alone. If you do, then you¡¯re not friends. ¡°Just make sure you don¡¯t lose sleep over this, okay Cordie?¡± ¡°Cross my heart and hope to die,¡± I told her, and winked. She lightly punched my arm, a pout on her face. *** July 5th, 2024 12:03 PM Yesterday was rather stressful, but with renewed vigor, I prepared to go check in on Robert¡¯s progress, if he had made any, and hopefully get a move on. Giving someone like him my number would have been one of the stupidest things I could have done, after all. The last thing I wanted for a guy like that to think was that I had any interest in him. Knocking twice, I heard some shuffling before a loud thud sounded out. ¡°Uh¡­ hello?!¡± I asked. ¡°Y-Yeah! One second!¡± Robert¡¯s voice replied, somewhat hurried. I waited several moments and heard some shuffling and rustling before his door opened and the disgustingly thick musk hit my nose like a when a skunk sprays on a too curious dog. I nearly puked right then and there. ¡°Huurk! What the fuck is that smell?!? Holy shit¡­!¡± I had to turn away at the repulsive wafting that came my way before glaring up at the bastard with both hands on my nose. ¡°Have you even found anything yet?¡± I couldn¡¯t help myself. It was that bad. Squinting, I noticed out of the corner of my eyes evidence most foul. Robert was wearing shorts with crusty stains on them. The proof of his sins made me instantly want to run away from such a fucking specimen screaming in horror, but I stood my ground¡­ ¡°Uh¡­ yeah, about that. Bishop doesn¡¯t have any social media accounts.¡± I looked up at his ugly face, still keeping both hands to my nose. ¡°What do you mean? I thought you said you could find something!¡± Robert shook his head. ¡°Well that only really works when I know his online accounts and shit, but he has nothing! Dude¡¯s a fuckin¡¯ ghost! Doesn¡¯t even use Facebook or Instagram. Nothing.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Well, what about his Google account or whatever? Couldn¡¯t you see what he¡¯s up to on that? Maybe he uses chrome? Hell, even he has to have an email account or two.¡± The fatass thought about that for a moment before he nodded and told me he would keep looking into it. It was extremely frustrating that I had to personally come to give him that idea. How stupid was this guy? But in all likelihood, Robert was probably just being a lazy bastard. Not to mention I pretty much caught him jerking off in his room¡­ Walking away feeling the onset of a migraine, I really started to wonder if this was even worth it. I told Bishop I thought he was the biggest loser on campus, but I¡¯ve honestly changed my mind. Robert takes the cake¡­ and eats it, too¡­