Burning

• Bella Szudrich, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2018

My throat burned. Every once of me was begging me, no- telling me to pick up the worn leather flask. To feel the water- cool and fresh, run down my dry throat. Although I had just taken a sip a moment ago, my throat still felt dry- In fact it felt drier. The heat was scorching me, burning me. I wonder if humans can dry out. Our bodies are mostly made of water, so it probably is possible. *sigh* I pushed back the negative thoughts. This is not the time. I had to concentrate on getting out of this hellhole.
It was all Dad's fault really. If it wasn't for him we wouldn't of been forced to explore and walk the great canyon. A four hour walk, he said. But he reckoned we could do it in 2. Now I had gotten lost, in the scorching heat. I thought it would be cool down here, on this humid day. But it was dry. And hot. Very, Very hot. All i wanted to do was admit defeat and collapse on the moist ground. I wanted to lie down on the damp moss and wait for a helicopter. But then I would be a laughing stock. My brother would sneer at me. I would forever be called the weaker one. He was already far ahead. Maybe already out of this snakepit. *Sigh* I already knew the answer to this one. I had to continue.
The trek was mostly uphill, as we had already walked down into the canyon. The actual sight was quite breathtaking, but I couldn't concentrate because of the burning. Urgh. No I was thinking about it again. Why did god have to punish me? I prayed, begging for rain. To feel the cool damp tears of the clouds touch me, making me moist. To hear that beautiful sound of rain and the slip slosh of people walking through puddles. I felt faint. And nauseous. I grabbed a hold of a wedge in a rock on the side. I must get out of here- alive. I pulled out my flask, worn and scratched- and sipped. It was like all the wars in the world had ended, poverty had stopped. It tasted like relief I couldn't describe. And then it was gone. Without realising it, I had finished the water. And I was only one third of the way. No water, in this humid place. When I pulled my hand of the wall, it was damp. Water. There has to be a source of water in this place. Eager and desperate, I climbed up the steps made of rocks, covered in slippery moss. Water. Water. Water. The word made me desperate, hopeful. I pushed up, and up, Ignoring the dizziness and burning. Up and up. We went downstairs to get into the canyon, but we have to go up to get out. The stairs stopped. A skinny rock path led me across. And there I breathed in happiness. A overhanging rock stood above me, and a slow drip of water fell from it into a dent in the ground. Probably from erosion. The drips were slow, but it was water. I stood underneath it. drip…..drip...drip...It didn't do much. I clambered on. 10 minutes later, my throat was burning like never before. It felt like I was on fire, or I was a vampire who hadn't had blood for a year. Water. Water. The thought kept me going. But when I looked in front of me I saw a crystal clear lake and no path. But it was water. I closed my eyes and dove in. This doesn't feel like water. I opened my eyes. The water was gone. I was sitting in rocks, my arms and legs and my face scraped from my horrible dive. It was a hallucination, nothing more. My eyesight was deadly in this vile place. I would have to rely on my hearing. I stood up and everything went in circles, my vision isn't straight. I felt sick. I felt weak. More importantly I had given up. The world spun and went black.