Hope for survival

      My eyes are blindfolded with some cloth. My hands are fastened behind my back to something solid, presumably a chair, especially considering the position of my legs. The last thing I remember is walking home from my night shift at five in the morning. Then, emptiness. No cars, no people, nothing resurfaces in my memory, even after minutes of reflection. The room is cold, damp; it might be a basement or cellar. I can’t hear anything. Absolute silence, penetrating to the bone.       I jerk, trying to free my wrists, but without success. I move my hands up and down — no result. Only one idea comes to mind — to remove the blindfold. Maybe there’s something nearby. I twist my head — nothing, I jerk sharply — still nothing, I rub against my own shoulder — there it is! The fabric slowly falls down. A couple of repetitions and voila — my eyes are free. The room is dark, but accustomed to it, I begin to look around. Bare, worn-out walls, a small window on the right with a view of the forest — I’m not in a basement, and there’s a door ahead. I scan the floor and finally, I grasp a small transparent shard that blends almost seamlessly with the concrete. Just a little more reach. I jerk in the right direction and tumble down with a crash. I freeze, afraid of being heard, but apparently, I’m alone in the house. I try to somehow free one hand, panicking from each failed attempt, but I manage to regain control in time. A few more tries and soon I successfully manage to move. Now, I’m at least a little free. I toss the stiff limb over the chair, land, and immediately stumble upon a sharp object. I pick it up and start cutting the ropes around my legs. Hooray, freedom! The thin ropes fall to the floor. I stand up, only to be immediately overwhelmed by dizziness.       I hear footsteps behind the door. Frightened, I run towards the window. It’s wooden and easily opens, just like plastic in the room.       “Stop right there!” a deep voice of an unfamiliar guard echoes in the concrete prison.       Ignoring the cries, I jump out onto the street. I have no shoes, so I have to run barefoot. I have to go around the birch and pine trees, stepping painfully on small stones and twigs. I can hear the pursuit behind me, accompanied by curses, shouts, and even gunshots. The sound of crunching shows that they are catching up to me… Ahead, I notice a huge birch tree with a rich canopy. I can hide there. Without hesitation, I leap onto the trunk and climb higher and higher using my legs. I’ve learned something in my sixteen years. I reach a relatively sturdy branch, well concealed by leaves. I crawl over and freeze, trying not to even breathe. I can hear footsteps approaching. A man stops directly under the tree. I’m afraid to turn towards him — I might fall due to my fear of heights, and who knows if he’ll even notice me. After a couple of minutes, he leaves. I don’t know which direction he goes, but I hope he’s heading back to his hideout.       The sun is bright, warm. I draw one conclusion: it’s now between twelve and four in the afternoon. It’s summer outside, so sunset is not happening anytime soon. Soon, any “human” sounds stop reaching me, and I exhale with relief. I don’t dare to climb down, only sit on the sturdy base of the branch, gripping it with my long legs. No matter how awkward my pose may look from the outside, it doesn’t matter now. I need to decide on my next actions. The place is unfamiliar, so I won’t be able to recall anything. I fall silent, listening. Somewhere, I can hear a quiet murmuring. There is water nearby, which is very handy. I continue to listen. There is a feeling that there is a road nearby. The sound of fast passing cars flickers near my ears. I dismiss it as my fear and look around the ground. It seems like that man has left. I decide to sit here for at least half an hour, just in case of “what if”.       Time passes, all around me there is only the singing of birds and the rustling of leaves. Mentally gathering strength, I take one last look around the area. It seems safe. Slowly turning around, I embrace the trunk with my arms, and then add my legs. I descend downwards, like a firefighter on a pole. Immediately beneath me, I hear the crunching of branches, cutting through the calm silence. I try to catch the sound of running water again and, once I succeed, I head towards it. I look around anxiously, flinching at every rustle. It’s terrifying to end up in that house again… With each step, the sound intensifies, and soon I find myself by a fast-flowing river.       I strain my brain, trying to remember the safety lessons I skipped, and all that comes to mind are the boys I was skipping with, smoking in the bathroom. Thankfully, I notice a liter bottle swiftly moving along the water. It’s good that human trash can be useful sometimes. Using logic, I decide to move against the current. There must be something there.              Climbing up the hill seems like an impossible task. Thirst and hunger are tormenting me, but I’m afraid to veer off course, and there are no bushes with berries nearby. I resist the idea of drinking water from the river for a long time, but eventually give in. I stop, sit down on the shore, and begin scooping up my salvation into cupped hands, drinking it all to the last drop. After satisfying my need, I rinse my face and continue on my way.       It feels like the second hour of continuous walking. My strength is gradually fading, and ahead I finally see some hint of civilization — a field with very short grass, clearly grazed by cows, as evidenced by the scattered hay bales. The river turns to the left — the wrong direction, so I decide to leave it be and search for a settlement here. My legs ache, my head throbs from the heat, and my skin below the knees is scratched and painful. I wouldn’t mind just lying down on the ground and falling asleep right now… However, I continue crossing the meadow.       I have never been so grateful for my excellent vision as I am now! In the distance, I spot a small village house, clearly inhabited, as there is a herd grazing nearby and clothes hanging on some ropes. Finally! The sight fills me with energy, causing me to break into a run, feeling tears of joy welling up. They were triggered by my fear of being alone in the unknown at night — the sun was already setting, and I had found no place to spend the night. Following closely behind, I notice people — several children, and an elderly couple. As soon as they see me, they watch my actions with curiosity, seemingly not understanding the situation.       “Hello, excuse me, do you have a police station around here?” I start the conversation, breathing heavily, still being about five meters away from my target.       “Hello, and where are you from?” answered the man, slightly tensing up.       “Honestly, I don’t know. I was kidnapped and managed to escape today. I was walking along the river at first, then saw the field, and then I saw you. I thought maybe I could go to the police, they might be able to help me at least a little bit.” I quickly explain the situation, watching their faces tense up.       “How were you kidnapped?” exclaimed the old woman.       “Like this. I don’t know why, but the last thing I remember is walking home from work. I’m sorry, but I really don’t have much time.”       “It’s alright, let’s go inside. You can eat, then wash your feet, we’ll give you some shoes! It’s not right to walk like this, there are a lot of branches and debris here. And go call Mikhail, he can probably help” the old woman is no longer addressing me, but probably her husband.       “Thank you, but it’s really uncomfortable for me. Maybe you can just show me the way…” I feel too awkward about the situation.       “It’s uncomfortable to sleep on the ceiling. Come on, let’s go, or I won’t let you go anywhere. Mikhail, our policeman, will come himself, don’t worry.”       Well, I guess it’s rude to refuse now. Alright, I agree and head towards the house. There, I receive a plate of delicious borscht and rubber slippers — they only found those in my shoe size. Soon, the local police officer arrives. I tell him the whole story, to which I receive a pitying look, and then he agrees to take me to the nearest larger settlement, where there is better police and a trauma center. By the way, I find out that I went missing three days ago and I am currently about a hundred kilometers away from my city — I assume the forest is close to me, but today I was walking in the opposite direction.       A couple of hours later, it starts getting dark, and we set off on a journey that will take just an hour. And you know what, it turns out that they were looking for me… One of my colleagues, just a colleague, went to the police when he didn’t get a response to his numerous messages. They almost ignored the request — they just sent my photos to the neighboring stations.       Well, I won’t be walking alone on the streets at night anymore, that’s for sure…