When his Body Took Control
Kenzley Stroh
His black hair was matted down with sand, giving the appearance it was a brown color. He woke up shaking unable to move or catch his breath. He didn’t have any clothes on and was shivering despite how hot it was. His long slender fingers were gripping a machete. He had never seen one in person, much less held one. His mind told him to put it down, but his body wouldn’t let him. He looked around and took in his surroundings. Sand as far as his eyes could see. He started to panic but a light haze fell over him. A sudden calmness took over his body and he sat in the sand for some time. He had the sudden urge to walk so he did. He continued to walk for miles and miles without stopping. The wind beat on his bare body as he moved along. Beads of sweat formed at his furrowed brow but quickly evaporated. He told his body to stop but again it would not let him. He didn’t know how long he had been there, and he soon became lonely. He knew he was trapped but he remained calm. He felt a fog in his mind, and he wasn’t in control. He walked and walked unable to stop his body. He knew he wanted to stop his body, but he also didn’t want to. He knew he should be tired, but he wasn’t. His body told him to keep going, so he did. He looked down at his feet covered in the red sand. His thick leg hair trapped the sand to his small legs. It seemed as days went by but with no night; just the unbearable heat from the sun beating down on him. Time seemed altered as he marched on. Right foot, left foot, dune after dune. His body had a mind of its own.
As he reached another dune he saw a body lying face first in the sand. He was unnaturally excited to see another human being that he ran toward the figure and this time his body let him. He was a little suspicious that he was able to control himself, but he didn’t care. He knelt down and the figure turned to face him. His eyed widened. It was himself. He quickly backed away in total dismay and without even thinking he raised the machete. The figure quickly raised his arms, but it was too late. He began hacking the body until he died. Panic washed over him and he took off sprinting. What had he done? Who was that person? He ran and ran until he realized he had regained control of his body again. He collapsed in complete exhaustion. The haze was gone. He was back. All the pain hit his body like a train. His head pounded along with his heart. Every inch of his body began cramping. He looked at his hands and touched his face. “This is me. I am me,” he said as tears ran down his face. He began sobbing uncontrollably. His shoulders heaved up and down. He looked at his feet and counted all ten toes. He grabbed his knees and rocked back and forth. He fell face first in the sand out of sheer exhaustion. He woke up to the sound of footsteps and when he turned around to look, he saw a figure of himself standing over him with a machete in his hands. He stumbled back in shock, as the weapon was raised. He threw up his arms in defense, but it was too late. The blade of the machete cut right through.
As he reached another dune he saw a body lying face first in the sand. He was unnaturally excited to see another human being that he ran toward the figure and this time his body let him. He was a little suspicious that he was able to control himself, but he didn’t care. He knelt down and the figure turned to face him. His eyed widened. It was himself. He quickly backed away in total dismay and without even thinking he raised the machete. The figure quickly raised his arms, but it was too late. He began hacking the body until he died. Panic washed over him and he took off sprinting. What had he done? Who was that person? He ran and ran until he realized he had regained control of his body again. He collapsed in complete exhaustion. The haze was gone. He was back. All the pain hit his body like a train. His head pounded along with his heart. Every inch of his body began cramping. He looked at his hands and touched his face. “This is me. I am me,” he said as tears ran down his face. He began sobbing uncontrollably. His shoulders heaved up and down. He looked at his feet and counted all ten toes. He grabbed his knees and rocked back and forth. He fell face first in the sand out of sheer exhaustion. He woke up to the sound of footsteps and when he turned around to look, he saw a figure of himself standing over him with a machete in his hands. He stumbled back in shock, as the weapon was raised. He threw up his arms in defense, but it was too late. The blade of the machete cut right through.
Kenzley Stroh is a sophomore at NMMI. She has big goals and is excited for the next two years that she has here. She is willing to work as hard as she can.