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It feels like we’re going to die.
And the scary part is, I think it's a real possibility at this point. The desert in Arizona is dangerous, but the desert in Arizona at night is almost forbidden. People die all the time in the desert. We came across a dead body when we first arrived. Half turned to bones in the sun, leaning against a side of a mountain. Lost, or maybe found. I don’t know, but it was sad to see, the decrepit skeleton rotting away in the sun.
We've heard the horror stories of people walking into the desert and never coming out. People get lost, people get sick, people get attacked. It's the fucking wilderness, and unfortunately, we we're stupid enough to follow their lead, heading straight into the desert without enough water.
"I want to head back. It's getting dark out," Trish's voice is shaky, her eyes wide as she continues looking over her shoulder. Like she's moments away from being eaten.
I try to move, but my muscles have started cramping. My calves hurt, a horrible charley horse making my entire leg lock up. "Shit," I cry, my hands going down to the cramp. I can't clench my fingers around my calf, though; my fingers are completely unusable, locked up and in pain.
"You okay?" Shauna rolls over, sounding just as bad as she looks. I can't imagine what I look like, but it has to be just as bad. Probably worse.
The rocks and bushes dig into my back, scraping my skin to shreds, but I can't find it in me to even move.
"I don't think so," I gasp.
"Come on, let's get back. You look really bad." She bends over, helping me to my feet. It's nearly dark now, the path in front of us meshing in with the rest of the mountain. Or maybe my vision is going dark. Either way, I can barely see. Shauna nudges me toward the path, and the five of us start making our way down the mountain.
It doesn't take long for me to start hallucinating.
Half of the mountain starts turning into a cartoon, and I close my eyes, rubbing my sockets with the heels of my palms. It hurts, my entire body screaming in agony. When I open my eyes, everything is back to normal. We keep shuffling forward, and after a few steps, the world starts turning into a cartoon again.
I bend over, dry heaving. I feel like my spine is about to split in half when my back folds over, my muscles screaming at me in horror. The ground moves, like it's turning into water below me. I dry heave again, the mixture between cartoon and real life churning my stomach like and angry tornado.
"What's wrong?" Willie walks up to me, not touching me this time, but still getting close enough that I can feel his hot breath on my shoulder. Nothing is coming from my stomach; my dehydration having sucked up everything in my body. But it doesn't stop the gags from rolling through my throat.
"Hallucinating." I breathe when a gag passes. I reach my hand out, placing it in his outstretched hand. When I stand upright, my eyes widen.
Right off the path is a wild horse. A giant, white stallion. Its tail swishes back and forth, the thick, coarse, white hair blowing in the wind. It looks like mine, except mine is a midnight black, where the pony's is a stark white. I stumble off, not scared of this hallucination.
The hallucinations terrified me before, made me feel sick.
This hallucination… it centers me. There's something about it. It's not looking at us, but it has to sense us, right? Five loud, stomping, dehydrated kids walking down a mountain at night? Our feet shuffle across the desert ground, our pants echoing throughout the open air. The horse has to know that we're here.
But why isn't she scared?
I nearly fall over a bush, but right myself as I get close. It's looking down at the ground, looking for some type of food or something. Maybe it's hallucinating from the hot too, and wants this day to end.
But as I get closer, she looks up, looking straight at me.
Thishas tobe a hallucination, right?
I feel like it’s a sign. And it makes me feel sick, makes me want to cripple over in agony, but I look at this white horse and I only think of one thing.
I think of Roman.
Why? Why is he always in the back of my mind? When you cut ties with your soulmate, shouldn't they leave your heart? Shouldn't their soul separate from yours? Why would my soul still be tied with his? Why would my heart still ache? Why would my mind and body still weep for him? For his closeness, for any ounce of Roman that I could get, I would swallow it just as greedily as I would swallow a glass of water right now.
I want to go home.
I want to go back to him.
The horse looks at me, her black eyes blinking slowly. Her tail swishing heavier now, to a beat almost. It swishes back and forth every time my heart beats. Like we're in sync, connected in some way.
My hand reaches up, wanting to touch her. Wanting to feel her and wondering if it would feel like going home.
What is she trying to tell me?
The moment my hand is about to graze her coarse hair, her body twitches, and she runs off into the distance, her feet galloping heavily, pounding against the ground. Her white hair blows in the red sunset, and a tear leaks from my eye.
