Chapter 1: Descent

    My name is Trever Owens, I am thiry-seven years old, and I assure you that I am perfectly sane. So, I take little comfort and confidence when I am about to tell you the following story. Please be wary, as I myself may have experienced it first-hand--but to this day I still do not know exactly what went on, and why things went the way they did.
    I was twenty-four at the time. I was still quite ambitious and had a good amount of money to my name. I was very successful, and very proud of who I had become. I would take several weeks off from my work in New York to go on hiking trips in various places of different parts of the world, and travel hundreds of miles through wooded areas on foot with no contact from another human. I must emphasize on the human part.
    I was very fickle about who I spent my time with; I was a loner by nature, and only a select small few people were even close enough to know my full name. To my collegues at work I was generally seen as a ghost, and people would often joke that I didn't even really exsist, so whenever I was seen in a more open place other then my office like near the copier or a snack machine people would always gasp and say, "He does exist!", jokingly. That or people who had not seen me before ever would ask me if I was new. Needless to say I was not a very social person, so when I would dissapear on a long hiking trip for a month or more I was not missed.
    Generally, my travels were mundane; beautiful countrysides and vast forests, but nothing out of the ordinary. All for one trip. The last time I ever traveled. The experience which had completely and overly changed my outlook on life altogether. When I say this do not write me off as some pessimist gone optimist by drugs, I have never done anything of the sort, and only drank socially. I assure you I am as sane as anyone else. Yet, what had happened to me had easily changed me deep down inside. I was not--am not an easily moved person; I can watch many a sad movie and not shed a single tear, but it was truly a life-changing thing.
    I was on a plane to a remote country which I will keep anonymous to prevent you from going there. We were nearing the landing when I first began to notice that something was amiss. I felt a sudden unease when we neared the runway, like the ground itself was oozing with despair which grew more and more thick as we neared the ground. I held my breath and cringed about a minute before we touched down, but it seemed like hours of watching the ground come at me with a slight sense of fear. I did not exhale until we had slowed down and began taxiing to the gate. At the time, it bothered me, but ceased to once I reached baggage claim. I had packed fairly light for the trip, my hiking backpack had only a single change of clothes, my bedroll, some tools, emergency food, and two cartons of cigarettes. On my person I had my wallet which I had removed all but some cash and ID, and a small knife to use for protection. I had never had any problems prior, so I saw no need for another weapon. I was somewhat proficient with it then, thanks to a small amount of personal defense training, and I was confident enough to use what I knew to protect myself when the time came.
    I had gotten my backpack and had had gone outside to have a smoke while I waited for the bus to the small town I would begin my joruney from. I would travel fifty-something miles from my starting point to the next town within a week, traveling about five to ten miles a day. I planned to take my time and enjoy the scenery of this time of year. It was of decent temperature and slightly wet, but not unbearable. The forest would have a nice cool mist about it and would be rather refreshing on my walk. This part of my trip was indeed very nice, leisurely, and relaxing. The remainder after a rest stop in the next town would not be relative though; nothing to be relative to it. After I completed the fifty miles, and had a rest, I set out again to, as I said...

A life-changing experience.

Author's Note

Alert me of spelling errors, please. That is what I am most worried about right now; equally so, please tell me what you think.

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[S. M. Faust]

I use to many commas, I am aware. My mind gets too fast for my fingers and thus I subconsciously put commas where I would put a pause as if I was talking.