The Stream - Short Story

My first thought when it happened was that this whole thing was a bad idea. The fall didn’t hurt so much as it was just dizzying, I almost threw up rolling down the hill. I had hit my head a few times, but the helmet helped cushion the impact, a little bit at least.

Initially, I hadn’t been in pain, not too much at least. It was the soundthough, the sound is what let me know I should be hurting. It was like biting a piece of celery and a carrot at the same time with a mouthful of yogurt. A snapping, crunching, squishing sound all at once. After the sound, it was the movement. My leg wasn’t moving like it was supposed to, it was bendy, and despite the rolling, I could still tell that it was flopping around like it shouldn’t be. Shins don’t have joints.

But it did hurt once the grating started. Like taking two, coarse pieces of sandpaper and rubbing them together. It hurt more than anything I had ever felt in my life. I had all but forgot about the dizziness and dirt and leaves in my eyes once I felt that.

Stop yourself, stop rolling dammit. Use your arms, grab something, anything to slow yourself down.

I flailed out with my arms, trying to grab a branch, or to just dig my fingers into the dirt. I pulled my arm back though as a new, shooting pain jolted through my middle finger.

My rolling slowed down though and I gradually slid to a stop, landing on my back, head first, at the edge of a stream.

I opened my eyes through the grit and muck and immediately regretted it. The sky spun and I felt sick. I tried turning to my side but a jarring pain shot up from my leg and I stopped, letting my head fall onto the soft, damp earth. I held my head with both hands, trying desperately to get everything to stop spinning. I knew it would take a second though, so in the meantime I tried wiping the branches and dirt out of my eyes.

With my eyes still shut, I felt around my pockets, checking to see if I still had my phone but it was gone. My headphones were miraculously still in my ears, at least one of the buds was, and the cord was tangled in my shirt.
I wasn’t quite ready to open my eyes, but I had to know what was causing the burning, throbbing pain in my leg. I propped myself up on my elbow and wiped the last bit of dirt from my eyes, but reeled my fingers back from that same sharp pain in my middle finger on my right hand. I opened my eyes and saw my finger first, the torn fingernail clinging on by a tiny bit of meat. I had seen things like that in movies but never in real life. I stared at it, dumbfounded for a moment or two before realizing what I needed to do.
Bracing myself, I pinched the nail in between my finger and thumb from my other hand, clenched my teeth and ripped.

“Goddammit!”

I waved my hand in the air, trying to cool off the burning and stinging and plunged my hand into the cool water from the stream. The stinging had stopped but my finger pulsed with pain with each beat from my heart. I wiped it off on my shirt, wincing a little.

Alright, time to see what the real damage is.

I used my elbows to push myself up all the way, tightening up my abdominal muscles so I could get into a half-seated position. I looked at my leg and immediately turned to the side, and threw up the omelet breakfast I had earlier this morning.

“Oh fuck,” I said, wiping away the puke from my mouth, “oh Jesus Christ…”
Jagged, white bone, glistening with blood jutted out from the skin in my shin. Little bits of dirt and leaves stuck to the exposed bone like glue and a razor-sharp point stared back at me from my twisted, mangled leg. The skin stretched tightly around the protruding bone, threatening to tear if I moved at all.

The sight of it brought all of the searing, white-hot pain cascading back onto me and I screamed in pain and for someone to help me. Nothing but trickling water and birds and the buzzing of flies replied back to me.
After a minute or two, the pain dulled a bit and I tried to clear my head to think. My phone was gone, my bike nowhere in sight, a compound fracture in my left shin but luckily the bleeding wasn’t too bad, and I had biked at least six miles according to my odometer last time I checked it.

What are you supposed to do with a compound fracture?

I had no idea.

First thing with any wound is to clean it right?

I looked behind me at the water. It was running so it had to be clean enough, not stagnant at least. So I took my shirt sleeve in my teeth and pulled with my hand as hard as I could until the shirt ripped. I took the sleeve and dipped it into water and held it over the bone, dreading making any contact with it. I clenched my teeth again and ever so gently, touched it just below the wound and dragged it agonizingly slow up my leg and over the bone. I let out a groan, gasping from the fresh wave of pain and wrung out the sleeve in the stream before making a second pass.

A small trickle of blood started flowing down my leg and I realized that by cleaning it, I either removed some dirt that was blocking the flow, or I had wiped away whatever blood had clotted around the wound.

I’m gonna have to put pressure on it.

“Fuck me, “ I let out under my breath as I cupped my hand with the sleeve and pressed it onto my leg.

“God! Fuckin’ goddammit!”

I shut my eyes tight until the throbbing waned and sat there, holding myself up with my arm and wondering what the hell I was going to do.

It’s a known trail, more people have to come by at some point.

But when? How long would I sit here?

A new thought sent shivers down my spine as I realized how cold it was on my exposed upper arm. It was about noon and already this cold. What if I had to stay here overnight? That wouldn’t be good. Asides from exposure, it would increase the risk of infection in my leg.

What if it needs to be amputated…

Can’t think about that right now, gotta figure out how to get myself out of here.

I had nothing but the clothes I was wearing, my helmet, socks and shoes and headphones.

What a fucking amateur. Shorts—I mean, they seemed like a good idea at the time, it was chilly but I figured I’d warm up on the trail—one little bottle of water, no compass… And no one knew where I was. My friends suggested a new hobby would help get me over Jennifer, why couldn’t they just suggest a fucking rebound like goddamn normal people?

“Fuck you Jeff! And fuck you Avery!”

Avery… At least I’m not named Avery. Gotta find the small miracles in shit situations right?

There were some rocks along the riverbank, some weeds or some types of plants. Up the hill I could see the disturbed area where I had fell. There were plenty of trees covered in lush, green leaves; it would have been beautiful if I weren’t in this situation. I turned behind me to get a better idea of my entire surroundings. The river was small, only maybe five or six feet across. I probably could have jumped it if my leg wasn’t broken. The water was pretty clear, I could see through it to the bottom until about halfway across. On the opposite side were more trees going up what had to be a much bigger hill than the one I had just rolled down.

Nothing of use, and even if there was, I couldn’t get to it.

What about floating down the river?

It was flowing towards the way I came… It’s not the worst idea in world…
I let the sleeve just rest on my leg and stuck my hand into the water again, supporting myself with my other arm, and winced as the pain in my finger that shocked up my arm from the—

From the cold.

The water was freezing. I could probably stay in it for a couple hours, albeit extremely cold, before I would risk hypothermia. But it was slow moving and it could take awhile to get back. Not to mention how shallow it is. It might not even run all the way back, I hadn’t noticed it this morning at least before I got on the trail. The cold might help numb my leg, but it could also infect it. Who knows what’s in the water.

Doesn’t seem like it’s worth the risk.

Ok then, what about finding my bike—maybe it’s intact enough to use as a crutch—and I can walk back down the trail. It would take me hours just to hobble down the trail, plus actually finding my bike. Scooting up the hill would be a pain in the ass, and the rest of my body as well, and what if the bike is too mangled to use?

Spent almost three thousand dollars on it, I’d hope it could take a fall or two.

Sure, but there’s no guarantee.

I let out a sigh and slowly lay down. The water trickled past my head and through my helmet, chilling me but in a good way. Even though it was freezing outside, I felt warm. Strange. Could I feel warm because of the pain?

I put my fingers to my pulse and my heart was beating pretty quickly. That had to be it.

The sun shone into my eyes through the cracks in the canopy above so I put my arms up in front of my face to block it out, but they grew tired after a few minutes so I forced myself to sit again. The damp earth beneath me shifted and I slid, only a few inches at most, enough for my hands to land in the water and to feel the water soak through my shorts on my ass. I stopped myself with my hands, catching myself in the mud under the water, and felt the bones in my leg slam against each other, the skin around the protrusion stretched tautly and I swear I felt it rip.

I howled in agony and tried pushing myself up, but the mud gave way beneath me and I slipped again, my head submerging below the freezing water. Out of shock, surprise and from a fresh wave of brutal pain from the sudden movements, I made the mistake of taking a sharp inhale right as I went under and sucked in water through my nose and open mouth.
I choked immediately, coughing and fighting to get my head above the water. I tried to plant my right foot into the bank so as not to drift, and felt around for the bottom of the river with my hands, every so often touching it, but unable to push myself up completely.

My head popped above the surface, icy water stinging my eyes, and coughed out some of the water I had inhaled, floundering with my arms to keep afloat. The slow current tugged on me gently but firmly, like waking a kid for school, and my right foot started slipping down the embankment, shifting the pressure over to my left leg. The bones mashed against each other, the swollen skin around the wound stretched and ripped even more and I screamed.

The pain was fucking indescribable.

Blinded and stunned by the excruciating shock wave radiating from my mangled limb, once again my head sunk below the water. Realizing there was no way to keep ahold of the embankment without drowning myself, I quit fighting and let my legs relax and I slowly drifted down the embankment.

Relief flooded over me as the pain in my leg subsided once both of them were in the water and I used my arms to pull my head above the water. I took in a deep breath and coughed out more water and let myself float lazily down the river.

The icy water was like morphine for my leg, numbing the searing pain to dull mellow throb, but a gentle breeze intensified the chill on my face and parts of my torso that were above the water. I let my eyes close, I needed a minute to rest, just one minute.

Drown yourself.

What? No! Drown myself? Where did that thought come from?

Because it’s hopeless.

No, it can’t be hopeless. I forced my eyelids open and looked to either side of me, trying to find another embankment, but I was surrounded by steep drop offs that I had no chance of climbing.

I could just float down the river until there was an opening.

I pulled my head up a little to check on my leg. A trail of blood leaked out from it, highlighting my path down the stream.

You’ll bleed out.

Or die of hypothermia.

Or your leg will ROT off!

Stop!

I calmed myself, slowing my breathing down and desperately looked around for another embankment, but saw none.

Why do I feel so warm? It’s freezing. I’m no doctor but I know that feeling warm is a sign of hypothermia. But I can’t have hypothermia, it’s only been a few minutes since I’ve been in here. Right? I looked for the sun, shielding my eyes so as to not blind myself, but I had no idea where the sun had been beforehand so I’d have no idea ho long it had been.

You’re dying. End it yourself!

There!

I could barely make it out around the bend of the stream, but there was no denying that the walls on either side me were sloping off into a gentle embankment.

I paddled myself to my right and dragged my fingers into the dirt, screaming as the dirt scraped away at the already raw and bleeding flesh on my exposed nail bed. I pulled away and frantically hugged the walls with my back until they tapered off, and I dragged myself up the embankment.
Exhausted, I lay there spread eagled, my legs still dangling in the water.
I sat myself up and looked behind me, hoping to see the hill or the trail but there were none. I was now officially lost.

I let myself fall back onto the muddy ground and the full weight of the situation pressed against my chest, asphyxiating me.

I snapped.

Revitalized with a new sense of determination, I sat myself up and swung my arms behind me, crawl scooting my way up the embankment.

Kill yourself!

KILL YOURSELF!

My progress was slow and the pain was damn-near unbearable, but I didn’t stop. No one would come to save me, so I had to save myself.

“Oh yeah, get a bike, it’ll be fun to have a new hobby they said,” I said aloud, dragging myself inch by painfully slow inch, “it’ll be really fuckingfun.”
I had no idea which direction I was traveling, I just knew it was away from the stream with the sun to my right shoulder. Which way is that, South?

I had no idea.

After some time, my strength gave out. The sun was setting, casting oranges and yellows, violets and pinks into the sky and the temperature had dropped considerably.

Shaking, and thirstier than I had ever been in my life, I propped myself against a tree to rest.

I must have dozed off because when I next opened my eyes, it was completely dark and utterly silent. No birds, no buzzing, no wind in the leaves. The silence was like a thin sheet of glass, the slightest touch of a sound would shatter it into pieces.

The only bit of light came from the moon, casting twisted and distorted shadows everywhere I looked. I could faintly see my breath so it had to be cold, but my whole body was on fire. I felt clammy and wiped my forehead and could feel tiny chunks of dirt stuck to my face. I was sweating. I pulled my shirt away from my body and fanned myself with it a little and slumped further down the tree.

You’re fucked now.

KILL YOURSELF!

Cut your wrists on your shin bone!

I put my hands over my ears, trying to drown out the voices.

I’m just delirious, exhausted, dehydrated… Yeah, that’s it. I just need to get my bearings back, rest a lit—

You’ve been resting! You’re fucking dying!

FUCKING DYING!

Just make it quick and get it over with!

Just touch it, feel the bone, feel how smooth it is…

God, I probably had gangrene by now. I brushed my hands off and gingerly felt down my leg, the skin getting more tender the further down I felt, dull aches pulsed off of my fingers—

What the hell was that?

A curious, tickling sensation came from my shin and I laughed a little until it started to itch. An itch like…

Like something was crawling.

Something was crawling, but the sensation wasn’t on my leg…

“Oh Jesus,” my voice a whisper, “it’s inside…”

My eyes widened and I strained to see anything, vainly attempting to catch the moonlight on my leg but the only thing I could make out was the bone, glistening white in the moon.

You don’t want to find out what that is…

JUST KILL YOURSELF ALREADY!

Haven’t you had enough?

Do it! Just take your wrist, set it on the pointy part and push down… Down as far as you can and then pull… Pull your arm towards you…

“FUCK!”

A stabbing pain came from inside my bone, it was biting oh Christ, it was BITING ME!

It’s sucking the marrow from your bone…
Must be delicious, it won’t stop. You can end the pain, just KILL YOURSELF ALREADY!

If I had a mirror, I knew I wouldn’t recognize the wild look in my eyes once I figured out the solutio—

“FUCK!”

I thought earlier when I was falling into the river was painful, a perfect 10 on the pain chart, but this was another level I didn’t think possible.

With murderous vigor, I plunged the index finger from my right hand into the bone and a thousand white lights went off in my head as ten thousand needles shot up from my leg. I thought I would black out but I couldn’t stop, I had to get it out.

I laughed manically and kept digging, pushing through the squishy marrow and I took relish in the ungodly sounds it made, the wet squelching—

Like a finger in a wet pussy!

End the pain! Kill yourself!

You can feel how sharp it is right?

It’d be SO easy!

Until at last I had it! It wiggled under my finger, trying to burrow further down but I pressed it up against the wall of the bone and slowly, God so slowly, pulled my finger back until it popped out of my shin with a sick splat. The creature almost got away from me but I cupped my hand around it. Without fully opening my palm, I reached in with the fingers from my other hand and pinched it between my finger and thumb.

Grinning with glee, I held my catch up to the light. I could only barely see it, it was so hard to make out but I had never seen anything like it. My god… What the hell is it? WHAT THE FUCK IS IT?

It wriggled and squirmed and a sharp pain snapped up my arm. It had bit me again! It was trying to get back inside!

It’s going to go inside you and eat you from inside out!

You’ll die slow, you can make it quick!

You KNOW how sharp it is, just pop that wrist open!

It’ll be almost painless…

The thing stopped biting me and for a split second, it was as silent as it was when I first woke up until a moment later, a quiet but high-pitched squeal came from it’s mouth, pulsing like Morse Code.

I slapped my other hand into my fingers, and it stopped the noise a for second but let out a couple more sharp tones before I squashed it completely. I wiped the remains off on the dirt and sat back against the tree, just need to relax. So feverish…

I don’t know why I thought it, but the stereotypical advice when you go on a trip out of the country is to—

“To not drink the water. You don’t drink the water when you go out of the country…”

The water! What was in the water? I had washed my open wounds with it, and drank plenty of it when I went under. Oh God, what was in the fucking water?

Just kill yourself!

KILL YOURSELF!

DO IT!

FUCKING KILL YOURSELF!

“I can’t… I can’t do it…”

Sure you can!

Just ki—

The shrill tone, there it was again. Coming from my left, and then my right! The noise grew and grew and if you listened carefully enough, you could hear them… Thousands of tiny feet… Scurrying across the ground while the creatures shrieked, louder and louder…

Leaves crunched and branches shook until I could finally see it from over my shoulder. The fucking ground was alive, and crawling towards me—

“No, please God no. NO!”

—until I could actually feel them on me!

I futilely brushed them off of me, each time receiving dozens of bites until I could feel them going for my leg again.

Kill yourself!

Just do it!

You can die from them or you can end it quickly!

You don’t want to die from them, trust me…

There was no other choice.

I grabbed my leg with my right hand, below the break, and wiped more of the creatures off of me but I could already feel them burrowing through the marrow of my bone. I braced my knee with my left hand and pushed with it while pulling with my right hand. I was blinded by the pain but feeling them scurrying across my face, into my mouth, my ears, my eyes, brought me back into focus.

I slid the bone through my skin and leaned forward, ready to pierce my neck with it and this whole thing.

Just a little further…

I threw my body forward and—

I couldn’t reach.