The Desert 🏜️

Some say that death over fire is the worst, others may argue that nothing is more traumatizing than a war or a natural disaster. Some may dread an accident or a poorly staged robbery.
Yet right now, I crave for such exciting and quick ways to go. My belly rumbled in agreement, or I'd like to think it did.

It has been rumbling for a week now, at first a laughable purr, turning to mild discomfort, then an excruciating pain and now a slow painful countdown to my untimely demise.
I looked at the sun, about to rise to its peak for the seventh time since I was stuck in the desert.
Seven peaks, seven days of excruciatingly hot waves of sunlight and heat, while the nights were as cold as Canada during the early dregs of winter.

During the first day, I had left some of my clothes behind, a mistake which cost me dearly when the food finished.
After the last of the rations were gone, I managed to last a day without food, drinking the last of the water.
These last two days have been the hardest; In a moment of weakness and intense hunger, I had begun chewing my shirt in order to make it softer and easier to swallow and keep down. That was how I found myself eating my shirts and drinking my sweat on the sixth day, narrowly escaping the hands of Death.

Now, the escape seemed impossible. The heat was a new high and my underweight, starved, cotton filled body simply couldn't keep up.
I felt myself landing on the sand before knowing what was happening.
As I opened my eyes to the golden sand, I knew this was it.
It's simpler to just let go. Go on the eternal slumber and leave this dreadful place.

Yet I held on in hope. The tour I joined prided itself on its quick recovery and answer to help.
I asked for help everyday with signal just as the sun was about to set in hopes that someone would see it
I could feel my pace and heartbeat slowing. I was about to sleep, would I wake up? That I do not know.
"Daddy"
The voice of my daughter who I would be living behind gave me hope.
With one last burst of energy, I shot the last signal flare, a mere waste of effort as it was still day and the flare would be barely visible.
It rose straight up in the air, the smoke leaving a trail that would lead any help or predators straight to me.
The sun reached its peak and the blinding heat all but knocked me out.

I laid on the floor, face down, drifting in and out of consciousness, holding on to hope and the memory of my daughter waiting for me with arms wide open.
I heard some movement by my sides and waited for the inevitable.
The last bowls of hope slipped through my finger as I waited for the bite or the sting .
It never came, instead I received a cold splash on my neck.
My eyes opened wildly, thirst and joy making me laugh.

Then it didn't come again. Which left me praying and hoping against hope that in my dying minutes the desert hadn't played a mirage on me.
A second splash helped banish those thoughts though. It had happened, I've been saved.

• _{Header Image gotten from Pixabay}

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