Wandering and Lost

So I was watching my friend play a video game the other day, and I was fascinated by the ruins that were in the middle of nowhere. This is what came of that. Warning: it is a little on the morbid side, sorry. Nothing too graphic, though.

It was a mistake, mostly on my behalf, but the blame squarely rested on the broad shoulders of our tour guide. The local man who had assured us he knew the way to the ruins in the desert. My family and I had decided to seek out ruins we’d heard about as we told our family and friends about our trip. Ones that were looked over by tourists in favour of places closer to the city and more convenient for themselves. I hadn’t been looking for convenient, I wanted fun, excitement and adventures, something to tell people about when we returned to the safety and comfort of home.

We'd driven until we were close, the sand clogging up the wheels of our jeep until it couldn't move any further without being swallowed whole. Our guide had assured that it wasn't that far, just over that sand dune. So we packed our bags and left the car.

Except the ruins weren't just over that ridge, nor the dune after that, and the tour guide got so confused and lost that we couldn't find the jeep. Nothing differentiating one sand dune from the next, the light breeze covering our footsteps as soon as they were made.

The few supplies we decided to grab ran out quickly, the smart idea to ration the few bottles of water we had failed the moment the first hints of dehydration started to blur at our vision. Hours of exhaustion following as we walked up that ‘one more’ dune, over that ‘one more’ ridge, practically falling down just ‘one more’ hill.

Our guide was the first to go, disappearing over a ridge as he chased a mirage of our jeep. Despite being a local he made the fool mistake of believing his eyes and disbelieving those around him. He moved faster than we could keep up, our yells failing to fall upon his ears.

Night fell, and we huddled together for warmth, knowing just how low the temperature could drop to within the depth of the desert, but not dressed warmly enough to deal with it ourselves. Prepared more for the overwhelming heat of the desert rather than the freezing ice that penetrated through our clothes and skin, seeming to freeze that which was meant to keep us warm.

I picked a nice ridge to gather everyone on top of, huddling up as we made a game out of drawing pictures in the stars, all trying to identify constellations as they blinked to life above us. It was beautiful, the crystal clearness of the sky, stars twinkling above us as we slipped into sleep despite trying not to.

I was the only one that woke.

Tears slipped from my eyes, stinging as they rolled over my dry and cracked lips as I checked for a pulse before burying each member of my family side by side. My arms lifting them, cradling them close to my chest before I laid them gently to rest in the shallow grave I’d carved out with my bare hands. Fingers tracing the name of each across the top, the grooves of letters slowly starting to fill up as the deserts gentle breeze attempted to comfort me after it took away everything I held dear.

I nearly gave up, laid down beside my partner and let the desert claim me as well, but I knew that wasn’t right. I needed to keep going, to find civilisation and report what had happened, pray I could lead search parties back to my family. Take them home like they deserved.

So I kept going.

Tears mix with the heat lines rising from the same sand that burns my skin wherever it can find a place to contact, sinking into my shoes and blowing across my arms. I keep going, trudging footprints in the sand that today I can actually see stretch behind me, making sure that no matter what I was walking straight ahead, making progress rather than walking around in circles.

Slowly, through my warped sense of vision, something dark starts to loom up before me. A mirage, but I can’t help my body as it starts making it’s way towards what appears to be charred remains of something.

A terrifying roar sounds from the large rectangular shape. It should scare me, but it doesn’t; instead it fills my strides with purpose. I should know better, that it’s simply a trick of my mind, placed there to give me false hope, but I don’t.

It grows before me, the roar mixing with cheers and a ringing of metal crashing upon metal. Until the rectangle shape fills my blurred vision, towering six stories above me, and reaching out as far as I can see. It offers precious shade, and I take it willingly, stumbling forward until its shade completely smothers me, finally giving me a break from the overwhelming heat of the desert.

Another cheer sounds and I turn, I’d never thought a mirage could be so realistic. Curious, my hand trailed along the stone walls as I followed it, actively seeking out what could be making such a noise out here in the middle of nowhere. There are wide gaps at every other interval that could be seen as doors, the crowd’s roars and clanging dramatically increasing in volume as I got closer to them. But they were gated shut, forbidding me entrance as though it would make me give up. It didn’t, instead I get more curious, foregoing the shade offered by the building and once more allowing the blistering sun to attack my already well-burnt face.

Finally, I stumble upon a door that isn’t barred by large metal grates, my feet tripping over each other in my haste to get inside. Noise level rising until it felt like my ear drums would burst to give me just a moment of peace and quiet. Things within the entrance tunnel are dark, one hand held out in front of me as the other ran along the wall, my skin slicing open as it rubs against the coarse stone wall, my eyes unable to adjust to the darkness and make out what's ahead of me.

All of a sudden it gives way to blinding bright light, forcing me to throw my hand in front of my eyes to try and shield them. The cheering only increases in volume as something slowly propels me upwards. My eyes adjusting so I can see what is going on.

I still don’t believe my eyes as I see a packed coliseum before me, crowds cheering and yelling as barely clad warriors fight off tigers and lions, dropping to their knees to duck under attacks that would have left claw marks down their chests.

I’ve done it, found the ruins I had been told about, except they didn’t look so much like ruins anymore.

My gaze drifts over to the crowds, all dressed in togas that I had always imagined Romans would wear as they attended the gatherings. My knees gave way, the never-ending flow of tears down my cheeks falling heavily as I saw who was seated in the royal booth. My family, waving and cheering, leaning over the side of the railings to yell down.

My heart stopped when they looked at me, frowns tugging at their lips before, in unison, they showed their thumbs, all pointing down.