Torn to Pieces

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The desert. Rajasthan, India.

A woman stumbles onto the scene. She hastily moves around in circles, desperate to find her way. She stops and addresses the audience.

The sound of brutally vicious growls, snarls, and barks entangle me. Survival. How am I going to make it out of this one alive? Thinking I was a threat, they are threatening me in return. Overwhelming thought of the moment, “Holy fuck, WHERE AM I!?”

Her eyes already laced with the first tinge of a lack of confidence, peak out from behind a colorful, embroidered headscarf.

Sunscreen isn’t quite enough to tame this ferocious side of the blazing hot sun. I took a wrong turn and now I’m lost and alone, on some all too quiet dirt road. All too quiet…Fuck. I hate anyone who has ever shared a gruesome story about rape or murder. Why are my nerves so rattled? I’ve been lost and found my way many times before, I can do it again! Their sounds rapidly erase my renewed confidence.

Boom. Boom. Boom. My heart pounds in my throat, manifesting itself into a lump of terror that keeps growing and growing. I can’t swallow or breathe properly, I have lost total control. My body paralysed by fear has a mind of its own, weak and shaken I fight to keep moving with my surroundings spinning an unsettling tornado all around.

“Legs please don’t fail me now!” This empty, dusty dirt road, how quickly can my feet get me away from it? How many of them are there and what will they do to me?

I close my eyes. Sweat droplets and tears mingle and dance all over my face. I see their sharp, pointy teeth and feel their angry breath biting and tearing. Torn. I’m torn to pieces and there’s nothing left. My fear filling their veins like a drug, enticing them, drawing them in, riling them up and making them angrier and more deadly. With each inconspicuous step I try to take, in a feeble attempt to escape them, they inch closer and closer. Their barks signal others to join their pack of hate and my time is running out. If only I could cover myself completely with this headscarf and just disappear.

The woman desperately tries to hide behind the headscarf.

Bang. Bang. Bang. In a flash it’s all over, as a beat up truck pulls up right in the nick of time. Instantly aware of my dilemma the driver had begun to hit his car door in an attempt to frighten the dogs. Without blinking an eye, I jump in the front seat next to him and begin to sob. I can still hear the dogs barking in the distance…as we drive off. Far, far away from this empty, dusty dirt road.

F.

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