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Northern Exposure: Episode Two

Luken Du Pont

Northern Exposure

  The Divided

  09-08-2035

  Friday

  Diary entry: 2

  What the hell was that nauseating stench surrounding me, so thick I could swear I felt it settle on my skin? The strong fumes drove deep into my nostrils awaking every dormant cell in my body. So pungent, so malodorous, I dared not breathe through my nose. Everything was quiet; I had woken from what seemed to be a perpetual darkness, only to find more darkness surrounding me. The black abyss had consumed everything in sight, a strange kind of darkness, leaving a desolate feeling deep inside my bones, making me realise how isolated and deserted I was. The only thing which gave me the faintest sense of relief was the sound of water as it slowly rippled downstream. A river or stream perhaps, but still my mind dwelled on figuring out what that terrible stench was?

  I was weak, delirious and petrified. Where the hell was I? Was I even still alive, or was this the afterlife that awaited me? An eternal foul-smelling darkness, then it all came flooding back. Like a steam train the memories of him, of her rushed through my head. No, I was not dead, I could not be dead, and this had something to do with the two of them. What had they done to me, why was I so weak and where the hell had they taken me? Answers eluded my questions, leaving me totally blank to my current circumstances. I struggled to move, I tried calling for help but my mouth felt numb, I felt completely useless. My body would not react; I couldn’t move a muscle yet I knew I was alive from the continuous pain which surged right through me.

  I took a deep breath, slowed my racing heart rate and calmed myself. There was no point panicking now; I had to firstly figure out what was going on around me. Then I could think of the next course of action. That’s when I remembered the tremors. This could have very easily been the work of the earthquakes, had I been buried under my apartment building? Many times I had seen on the news how miners became trapped under collapsed rock and survived the cave-ins for days. Or what about the earthquakes in China a few years back. Survivors were being pulled out of the wreckage weeks after the incident had occurred. This was the only logical reasoning of me being in what was most likely my dilapidated building.

  Eventually I took control of my body and managed to move my muscles inch by inch. Slowly I lifted myself off the floor, but my balance resembled that of a newly born gazelle. I tried finding my footing and constantly fell back to the floor. At least I was on solid ground; I stretched my arms out as far as they could go and was greeted by nothing but emptiness. Did this mean I could rule out a cave in, surly debris would surround me. That left only one explanation, Jacob and that bitch did this to me!

  As I paced around trying to figure out where they had taken me, I soon found myself knee deep in some sort of rancid water. I guess I had figured out the origin of the smell. Disgusted and still quite delirious I felt for the embankment, and found a hard concrete covered edge. This was clearly some sort of canal which was transporting the foul smelling water. I felt around making sure my footing was right then lifted my knee and with all my might stepped out the water. I realised how week I was when such an effortless task felt so taxing.

  I screamed his name over and over, but to no avail. All that was heard were the echoes of my anger, flowing down the unknown passageways. “JACOB”, even though despondent I couldn’t give up. I tried this time even louder, realising now how sore and agitated my throat was. Like wall plaster around my jaw I had developed server cotton mouth and each time I screamed his name my lips tore apart from one another. Obviously signs of dehydration, my kidneys throbbed with pain, and my skin itched profusely. But giving up now would mean allowing them the satisfaction of having broken me.

  My cries were soon halted as I realised that something wasn’t right here, I rubbed my face. A thick scar ran across my cheek and another across my forehead. How was this possible? Had he not just slashed me open with his belt buckle, surly the wound should have been fresh? Then I felt a thick blanket of hair around my chin, this could not be, I’m sure I had shaved the day before. What was going on? My anger had turned into confusion, which soon manifested into full out terror. I screamed louder in Panic “JACOB” eventually I got a response.