A Wooded Trek

Heather Bennett

You begin to stir from a deep sleep, your eyelids heavy as if you hadn't opened them in weeks. You reach your hand up to your face, struggling to extend your muscles. Rubbing your eyes, you finally get them open, only to find yourself in a bed in an unknown room with barely any light.
How did you get here? The last thing you clearly remember is walking home from your cousin's last night, almost being hit by a taxi. To your right there is a window, where you can see through a small section where the blinds are broken<i>. </i>
<i>Trees....woods...cabin..., </i>you think to yourself, trying to figure out where you are, your brain fuzzy from just waking up. <i>Need...home...must...go... </i>You struggle to form thoughts, but know you are in a place that may not be safe.
Your muscles feel weak and strained, but you wonder if you should push through it and try to get back to somewhere familiar. Do you push yourself to get up out of the bed, possibly straining yourself and pushing yourself harder than you may be able to handle, or do you lie there to try to gather your thoughts before even trying to get up, knowing you may not be able to walk a long distance in the condition you are in?
Push yourself to get up out of the bed, possibly straining yourself and pushing yourself harder than you may be able to handle
Lie there to try to gather your thoughts before even trying to get up, knowing you may not be able to walk a long distance in the condition you are in