The Mating Run by Leeka

Hunger

Each day seems to blend into the next, an endless expanse of time devoid of purpose.

Berries, firewood, water.

I drag myself through the motions, my body feeling heavy and sluggish. The sound of my footstops is

creepy, reminding me that I am all by myself in this empty. cave. The air is heavy with unspokon

sadness, sticking to me like a thick blanket.

I don’t even know why I feal unmotivated; there’s no rational explanation for the sadness that

consumes mo when the Hider passes away. The fact that I barely know her adds an element of

confusion to the situation.

At this moment, everything feels futile, as if all hope has evaporated.

No matter how much I cry and scream, there’s a lingering fear inside of me that everything will come

crashing down, just like it did with her. I can’t shake the thought that someday there will be an empty

hole in my skull, and someone else will have to bury me. Throughout the entire time, the cameras will

keep rolling, capturing our every move, as if we’re characters in a film.

“Berries again.”

feeble

With a lack of enthusiasm, I mutter the words, barely audible. They are replacement for the

nourishment I long for not for my physical self, but for the depths of my weary soul burdened with grief.

The feeble warmth of the cra ckling fire in the corner offers a glimmer of comfort but can’t quite chase

away the cold that has settled within me. As I stare into the flames, I am captivated by the flickering

shadows that gracefully dance across the cave walls. The flickering chaos offers a sense of comfort, a

welcome distraction from the monotonous routine that consumes me.

Outside, the world continues its relentless march, the sounds of birds chirping

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Hunger

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and leaves rustling in the wind. As the wind dances through the trees, I can’t help but feel a pang of

jealousy for the freedom it possesses. I long for dreams, but my solitude keeps me firmly grounded in

the harsh truth.

I have to admit that it’s my fault from the start. I should have taken Ettie’s words. to heart – she is right

about this being trouble. Regret floods over me as I realize the true gravity of this Mating Run, and I

wish I had never registered.

With each drop of water entering the makeshift container, the echoing sound resonates from the nearby

stream. The same sound over and over again, just like my dull life. Each raindrop echoes the

emptiness in my heart, a constant reminder of the life I have lost.

“Why am I even wasting my time on this?”

I mutter, the words slipping out of my mouth like a soft exhale. The air is charged with the weight of the

unspoken truth. Why bother when every breath is filled with the bitter taste of despair? Why bother

when my voice echoes off the cave walls, disappearing into silence?

As night falls, the cave plunges into complete darkness. The feeble glow of the fire flickers, offering

only a dim source of solace. Despite my desperate need for sleep, it evades me, leaving me trapped in

the never-ending nightmare of wakefulness. The walls close in further, their presence pressing down on

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me, suffocating my weary soul.

The world beyond the cave appears like a fading memory, a realm exclusively meant for the living. I

find myself suspended in a void, a lone silhouette caught between the haunting echoes of the past and

the enigmatic uncertainty of the future.

–

I long for an end to the monotonous routine, to the suffocating numbness that wraps around me like a

shroud.

Within the cave, every day is a grueling fight, a desperate attempt to discover significance in the

pointlessness. As the fire dwindles to a mere ember, I feel its fading light mirror my own diminishing

spirit.

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Hunger

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Wed, 6 Mar

Eventually, a hunger grows inside me, like a relentless beast demanding to be

I glance at the empty spot next to me, where a meager stash of berries had once sat, now reduced to a

hollow reminder of my depleting provisions. I let out a sigh, a soft acknowledgment of my surrender to

an insatiable hunger.

To my dismay, the water source has also proven untrustworthy. The stream, once a gentle flow, now

trickles feebly, transforming the once-abundant waterway into a desolate expanse of parched stones. I

stand at the edge, my fingers tracing the smooth surface of the empty water bottle, a tangible reminder

of my desperation.

Grudgingly, I come to terms with the inescapable reality.

With a heavy heart, I step out of the cave and into the vast unknown, driven by the need to find

nourishment. As I feel the knot tighten in my stomach, I can’t help but notice the parallel between my

apprehension, desperation, and the hunger that

consumes me.

Stepping outside, I am met with the scorching sun, its unforgiving rays searing into my tired body.

Clenching my fists, I can feel the fear dissipating as determination takes its place.

The trees tower above, their branches stretching out like bony fingers, casting an eerie shadow over

the desolate realm. My eyes quickly scan the surroundings, hoping to find any indication of something

to eat. The forest, however, holds its secrets close, its dense foliage concealing any signs of life from

the desperate wanderer.

In the quiet woods, the rumbling of my stomach creates a primal sound that seems to reverberate.

With each passing moment, the hunger grows stronger, an insatiable force that craves appeasement.

My search persists, my footsteps echoing with a sense of urgency as the emptiness inside me

threatens to consume.

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The realization crashes into me like a s ucker punch-I suddenly feel the weight

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Hunger

of my aloneness, vulnerability, and the apathy of the world around me. The frustration within me grows

as I mutter curses under my breath, the sounds of the forest failing to offer any solace. I fear that any

moment now, a Hunter will come charging towards me, wielding an ax with murderous intent.

As I venture into the forest, I feel its embrace, the verdant foliage and flickering shadows captivating my

senses.

Leaning against the rough bark of a tree, I become one with the surroundings, my presence hidden like

a ghost among the foliage. The hunger within me has become an insatiable beast, driving me to

uncover the mysteries that lay hidden in the heart of the wilderness.

With each careful step, I make my way through the maze of trees and tangled vegetation, my senses

on high alert for any rustle or whisper carried by the wind. Life pulses through the forest, its mysteries

veiled beneath a canopy of leaves and interwoven branches. With each step taken deliberately,

searching for food in the gentle rays of dappled sunlight.

The tension in the air is palpable, my heartbeat matching the uncertain rhythm like a drum.

I come to a sudden stop at the edge of a clearing, my eyes widening in awe at what lies in front of me.

Nestled in the heart of the wilderness, a pristine lake reflects the cerulean sky above. The realization

crashes over me like a wave, flooding my senses with excitement I can practically smell the fish in the

air!

–

I can’t tear my eyes away from the shimmering surface, where mysterious shadows dance, revealing

glimpses of the hidden aquatic world. The hunger within me roars louder, overpowering the gentle

rustling of leaves and the faint calls of unseen creatures.

I can practically taste the delicious fish as I set out to catch them.

My resolve grows stronger as desperation courses through me, searching the surroundings for

anything that could serve as a makeshift fishing tool.

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Hunger

My gaze is drawn to a fallen branch, its end jagged and splintered, lying on the ground. Seizing it, I feel

the rough bark beneath my fingers, and a renewed flame of hope surges within me. Clutching a pointed

stick, I feel a surge of determination to fight the hunger that has consumed me.

I go to the lake, mindful of every step so as not to disrupt the peaceful ambiance. I take the precaution

of rolling up my track pants and hoodie sleeves to keep them from getting wet. Crouched at the water’s

edge, my hands tremble as I grip the makeshift fishing spear, its rough surface rubbing against my

palms.

The fish are like shadows, darting around and making fun of me for not catching them.

“Come on, just a little closer…” I mumble, barely heard over the forest noise. I am so hungry that my

focus gets razor-sharp, and I can sense every movement below the surface. I make a quick motion with

the spear, hoping to catch something to eat.

I can’t catch the fish, it’s like they’re disappearing in the water.

I am so frustrated, I think I might explode. I try again and again, each time more intense. I feel this

intense hunger that drives me to the edge. The stick is like a joke, mocking my feeble efforts.

Time just keeps dragging on, full of ups and downs.

The sun goes down and makes long shadows on the lake. My stomach is making all sorts of noise

because I am starving. Collapsing at the water’s edge, I feel the gritty sand beneath me and watch as

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the pointed stick slips from my grasp.

Exhausted and filled with despair, tears well in my eyes.

I am thinking if this is the end – a slow surrender to the wilderness that has become my prison.

And then, the quiet is interrupted by the start of a ticking noise.

The metallic cadence pierces the heavy silence, causing me to stop suddenly.

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I strain to discern the source of the familiar sound, my ears pri cking up with anticipation. The sound of

ticking echoes in my mind, bringing back memories from the depths of my consciousness.

Then I spot it, a small robot hidden under a shrub, its blinking lights catching my attention.

A spark of hope ignites within me, a flame that bravely pushes back against the encroaching darkness.

Without a second thought, I race towards the robot, feeling the strain in my chest as I propel myself

forward. As the screen on the robot’s surface flickers, I can’t help but notice my name flashing in bold

letters.

Alina.

This time, there is no letter waiting for me.

Instead, the screen blinks with a stark prompt: “Enter your tracksuit number,” accompanied by a loud

beep.

With unwavering resolve, I type Number 9, my fingers dancing across the keyboard as a tempest

brews inside.

As if unlocking a secret code, the robot starts to open, revealing its intricate metallic joints unfolding

with precision. As I stand in the forest, the palpable suspense creates a moment suspended between

revelation and uncertainty.

It is clear that the gift comes from a sponsor, but I am clueless about their identity. Nevertheless, a

nagging voice in my head suggests that the robot’s origin is tied to the sponsor who provided me with

the knife. As I look around, my eyes search for any sign of a camera tucked away in the trees. Spotting

a camera pointed directly at me, I instinctively place a hand over my heart and silently mouth my

gratitude.

With every passing second, the robot’s hidden contents become more apparent.

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Hunger

My breath catches in my throat, and a gasp slips from my lips, surprising even myself. As the metallic

lid parts, a blinding burst of light spills forth, instantly illuminating the forest and creating a mesmerizing

play of shadows on the ground.

My veins pulse with adrenaline as I lock eyes on what lies before me. With nothing else on my mind, I

can only feel my heart beating as I delicately trace the lines on it, my eyes widening and a smile

curving my lips.

Inside the robot, there is a map.

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