Sunrise- week 6 ljidol
Cold.
That was his first coherent thought.
Dark.
He blinked, his eyes burning, his mouth dry and sour with bile. Everything ached and burned, and he felt as if something was weighing him down.
Except he was in ripped jeans and a button down, lying in the snow, somehow unable to move. He slowly realized he had been drugged at some point, the way his limbs seemed to move in a separate time than his mind. Although his mind seemed to be moving slowly, too, stretching like a rubber band.
He looked down, noticing he had bled into the snow at some point, feeling sharp pains, knowing he had been injured somehow.
Need to get help.
He was in trouble. His toes were numb, and his fingers felt as if they were about to break off. He had to move, but his arms did not want to comply.
Moments later he saw pink in the distance, thanked God for small miracles. He lay there as the light began to warm him, his arms finally beginning to move, sliding across the slow in small measured movements.
He tired quickly, resting in what seemed like moments, but the sun kept jumping higher, the sky turning blue. The warmth seemed to be melting the snow, and he wondered how he would make it across the grass or pavement or wherever he had been dumped.
It didn't matter-he just had to get help.
The light seeped into him, and he closed his eyes against the pain of the brightness. He rested a moment more, his hand sweeping idly across the snow. He opened his eyes again, noticing the sheen below his hand. It didn't process in his brain, what was underneath him. He just kept moving.
The sun finally reached a position above him, and most of the snow was gone. He was wet, tired, bleeding, aching, cold. He tried desperately to remember how he had gotten here, what had happened, but all he could think of was to keep moving, to keep himself alive. The sun was almost unbearably warm compared to the melting snow, and panic set in as he realized exactly where he was.
He had made it only a few feet more before the ice cracked.