GREYWAY NATIONAL PARK

“Are we the last living souls? Are we the last living souls?” It was Jarod’s croaky mumble that spread the words. Gorillaz were on the radio and he thought he was too far from home. Jarod was speeding into an ever-increasing scene of evergreens and winding roads with foggy medians, disappearing here and reappearing there. He had thirty missed texts and double that in missed calls when he decided to throw his cell phone out the window. “No more ‘it keeps me grounded’ Jarod.” He shifted uncomfortably in his late nineties heap. “If it just stays together today it's good” he rationalized. He was alone for the first time in weeks, he was scared at first. But his relationships had been overwhelming him lately. Jarod was emotionally exhausted from the woes of his world. A trip out of the city and back was one thing. But Jarod decided he would be leaving for good. It was a panic-picked decision, but one more second of suffering at the expense of others would have combusted him. His mother, more impoverished than when she was raising them, his father, stoic and proud, but drunk and stubborn… On and on each relationship piled baggage on his back till he decided to split. 

His car made a loud then low grumble. “No… no no no!” Jarod said, tapping his finger erratically on the steering wheel. He knew, there wasn’t much he could do. The engine began to steam and the needle measuring his engine temperature was Northeast and bloodred. “I can’t even call Lily.” He thought, quickly jerking his thoughts back to the apathy that Lily brought him. “I lose her if I don’t make it back home, but she doesn’t listen. No one listens. It’s good I left. Jesus. Where am I?” He saw a road shoulder dimly lit by his headlights, as he rolled up to the shoulder there was a reflective-aquamarine sign reading “GREYWAY FOREST NATIONAL PARK AND ANIMAL RESERVE.” 

“Oh man,” Jarod thought. “Oh man, oh man, oh man.” He heard a howl in the distance. Jarod looked up and was struck by a clairvoyant moon, staring at him, absorbing his chest, and the warmth he once felt. The stars glimmered around the full glowing orb. “Beautiful…” Another howl came, this one closer than the last. From across the street Jarod heard a branch snap. “Wolves” he thought. But then he felt a vibration underneath the earth where his feet stood tip-toed and ready to run. Jarod’s chest cinched. His breath was shallow from his leaky thoughts and now fear constricted him further. It felt like a belt getting tighter around his throat notch by notch. He felt several more shakes and he crept closer and closer to the highway sign. It was his only form of cover, but the metal poles holding the sign didn’t provide him full concealment. 

“I should’ve stayed in my car. I threw my freaking phone out the window. There’s no help for me this time,” thought Jarod-  “or anytime” his brain spat. He huffed in frustration and thought about being home cuddled up to Lily: Two cats, a full sized bed, a terrible TV show playing in the background while they found more reasons to make an exhausted relationship exert itself further. “I’d give anything for that now, if I could only-” His thought was severed by a noisy thud close behind him. It sounded like the rapping of ten men. “Two directions now? They’re getting closer.” His hair raised like needles and without a further thought, he sprinted away from the thudding and snapping of branches. 

Through the whirling sound of wind on branches, Jarod failed to hear anymore snapping sticks or approaching footsteps. He could only hear the wind smashing against protruding tree branches. The moon was like a torch light. However the shade of blue made it aqueous. It lit Jarod’s path so that he didn’t smack into any trees, but every fifteen steps he’d hit a small branch and feel it break off. He heard a blood gulching cry from behind him. He was starting to run out of steam, he was a frail twenty-something year old. Years of financial and academic stress eroded his body to a narrow and formation-less stone.  He used to play football, he even got Lily to play before the draining rift of responsibility shelved the fun they shared. “I miss her, I miss having fun,” he thought “well now you’ll never have it again.” Two roars came from ten feet behind him. He was too scared to turn and face the monsters trying to close in on him. 

In the distance, about 60 yards away, Jarod saw the silhouette of a cabin. The bestial snarls of the mongrels nipped at his heels. He made it, never turning around, he opened and slammed the door behind him. He dead bolted it and searched the one room cabin with his eyes until he found a chair to block the door with. There were howls from outside. Whatever was chasing him didn’t plan on leaving.

In the cabin there were decorations on the wooden walls. There was a painting of a boy and his mother, illuminated by the moonlight piercing through the window. The mother had dark brown hair, almost black from the lack of warm colors in the cabin. She was slender in her figure, with no features painted on her face. She was reading to a faceless child, tucked tightly into bed. Jarod remembered a time when his mother was a goddess in his eyes. He used to wonder how she managed to raise them. Every day and night spent working, cleaning, playing, and occasionally napping. But that all faded away, quickly too. Jarod became disappointed and swiftly reminded himself that his mother is now a selfish woman, concerned too much with money. Bitter from years of financial distress and the lack of ambition to change her situation. 

There was a long scrape against the cabin's outer walls. “I’d give anything to be with my mom right now,” he thought. “Anything?” his brain reverberated. Across from the bed there was a nightstand. Made of some fine wood only his carpenter brother could identify. “My parents treat him like shit.” Jarod thought. “They haven’t even given him a real chance to succeed yet.” He walked over to the drawer and reached his hand out to open it. From outside the cabin he heard slamming fists on the door. The chair shuddered violently, but it didn’t give. He let out a soft moan and tears started to streak down his pale cheeks. Jarod was gaunt, he was drained of will, and weary of hope. He was thinking of Lily again. “She’s going to be so sad.” There was more scraping at the door, he could hear wood splintering off the entrance to the cabin. He reached out with his left hand and opened the nightstand. Inside was a pack of cigarettes, matches, and a revolver. “Perfect” his brain shot at him. He picked up the small midnight blue box of Pall Malls and struck a match. The flame was the most warmth he’d felt in hours. He took a long drag off the cigarette, hearing the cacophony outside the cabin. Jarod exhaled an ugly mist of cigarette smoke and watched the fumes contort in the moonlight. He picked up the revolver, faced the barrel towards his state of mind, and filled the room with warm colors, contrasting the cool hues that surrounded him. Jarod thought one last time: trapped no longer by the thick, sickly haze that clotted his brain. He thought about being alone, forever.