Cannibal

The jungle isn't safe anymore.

We were running as fast as we could. I suddenly tripped over a rock and fell hard. The air was knocked out of me. The sticks and stones on the ground ripping at the skin on my hands and cheek, blood dripping onto the leafy ground. I heard the others continue to run. Twigs snapping, leaves crunching, heavy labored breathing. I knew they had left me. I don’t blame them. I would have done the same thing. As I tried to scramble to my feet I felt a prick on my neck. Almost like a mosquito bite. I reached up and felt feathers attached to something small and wooden. My eyes widened, my breathing became shallow, and all I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat. I felt myself falling backwards onto the warm hard ground. As I lay there my eyelids got heavy and I heard someone approaching. “It’s a dart,” I managed to whisper before everything went dark.

I awoke when the sun was down. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I started to make out shapes in the distance. I heard a fire crackling and some men speaking in a language I didn’t understand. When I tried to move I realized that I couldn’t. My hands were bound behind me and tied to a large wooden pole. My feet were tied to the ground. I couldn’t move them. The rope bit into my wrists and I struggled to get free. The men were speaking louder now, chanting it seemed. I heard a monkey howl. A long sad sound like it was being killed. I felt tears well up behind my eyes. I knew I was in trouble. I pulled harder on my binds feeling them cut into me. Blood was running down my hands. Tears were spilling down my cheeks. I glared at the men as they approached. They were tan with pitch-black hair that stood out all over the place. Their eyes were wild and red. A sharp piece of wood was put though each of there noses. Dried blood stained their teeth and the corners of their mouths. They looked at me with a quizzical look as if they had never seen a white woman before. I started to thrash about in a pathetic attempt to free myself. The ropes were too tight. Tied too well. I couldn’t get free.

They stood around and talked for a while before heading back over to the fire. I didn’t understand. Why weren’t they letting me go? Why weren’t they hurting me? I was tired. I didn’t want to think anymore. I didn’t want to feel. I leaned my head back on the pole and closed my eyes. My heartbeat slowed down and I felt myself drifting off. The sound of the birds overhead relaxing me even more.

I must have drifted off for when I opened my eyes the fire was out and the men were gone. I started to remember where I was and what was going on. I was frantic. I had lost them. I scolded myself for being stupid enough to sleep. I thrashed, the wood leaving small cuts on my body. I yelled until I was hoarse. After I calmed down I noticed them coming out from behind the trees in front of me. I started crying again. They had knives and a crude axe. They approached me and I started to beg. Pleading with them to let me go. I knew from the looks they were giving me that they didn’t understand. I was going to die. They untied me from the pole and forced me on the ground. My hands still bound behind my back, my feet finally free. They began chanting again and when I looked around me I saw a man. A white man. Laying on the ground. I shouted for help, ordering him to help me. He lay there motionless. I realized that he was dead. The bottom half of his body gone. Tears spilled down my cheeks once more as I prayed to god. Asked him to save me. The chanting got louder and faster. One was holding me down while the others danced around me. I heard a loud yelp from the one above me and a sickening crack. Then everything went dark and silent.