The only thing I could remember was my name. Aevin. I repeated it over and over again. Like a newborn. Except I’m a teenager. But don’t ask me my age, because I don’t know.
I was hot. Then cool. Then hot again. I had just started waking up when I noticed I was in the desert. I stood up fast but quickly fell back down with a shriek. There was a piercing pain in my ankle. I looked down to see the cuff of my tan, originally white jeans, covered in blood. I was scared. I couldn’t remember anything and I had no idea what was going to happen to me. I didn’t know if someone was going to find me. The only word I could think of for the next ten minutes was help.
I looked around. There was a water bottle on my right. To my surprise, it was completely full. There was nothing on my left. I tilted my sore neck down to see what raggedy clothes I was wearing. I was wearing a light blue blouse that was torn at the neckline, the tan/white/blood covered jeans, and green with pink striped sneakers. There was nothing for miles. Just sand. The sand went all the way to the horizon of the setting sun.
I touched my face. It was all burnt, like my skin had sizzled. I could feel the skin on my nose start to peel as I was taking the time to inspect my red face. I had bruises and forming scars down my arms. And it was at that moment when I started to cry. Not being able to remember anything frustrated me, and I screamed until I was turned over onto my stomach, tears streaming down my sand-caked cheeks.
I figured my ankle wouldn’t get better on its own so I decided to take matters into my own hands and examine the bloody mess. My lips quivered and the pit in my stomach rose to what felt like my throat as I rolled up my pants. I cringed with every centimeter . There was a cut that went around my entire ankle. I continued to roll up my pants to find another wound about two inches above my first one. Blood ran down the shin and I was in excruciating pain. Just a slight breeze over the wound would send the pain over the edge.
I just had to lay there. And I had to lay there for what felt like hours. I thought about a lot of things though. I mean, what did my parents even think I was doing? Was I supposed to be on some sort of vacation? Were they supposed to be with me? Did I even have parents? All my thoughts lead back to the same question, why? Why me? Why the desert? Why now?
I began to crawl. It was the only way I was going to get out of here. Nothing scared me more than dying. I only had half a water bottle left and I was getting very dehydrated very fast. I hadn’t taken a sip of water since a few hours ago when I woke up. Within the next minute of crawling through the rough, golden sand, I threw up. I watched it disintegrate into the dirt because it’s not like I had anything better to do. My mouth was so dry it was almost as if I had just eaten cinnamon. But I had to savour my water.
In the distance there was a faint image of a tree. Then I saw a rock. Then I saw the watering hole. I began to crawl faster. It was so close. Only twenty more feet I told myself. My heart was beating so fast and I let out little squeals. But once I got to the designated spot of where I saw everything, nothing was there. It was like everything had disappeared. My heart sank and I rolled over onto my back. Everything started to get blurry. Then everything went black.
When I woke up it was the middle of the night. I guessed about one in the morning. The sand was cool and I was sleeping on a lot of pebbles. Everything was lit by the light of the full moon. I remember when I was little, I would take my thumb, close one eye, and hold it up to the moon making them the same size. I did that when I was about eight but-