1. Chapter 1: Who's Really the King?
I’m running through the jungle. I don’t specify which one because I’m not sure myself. It looks like one that I saw on a National Geographic special. And another one that I saw during a Discovery Channel special. I wonder if they were the same jungles or if all jungles just look the same. Either way, I’m running through it.
My arms are pumping so fast they are plowing through the vines and plants that are supposed to be ransacked through by a machete being held by a guy who’s done this before. Of course, this means my arms are being scraped tremendously. If I didn’t live in the always sunny parts of California, I’d have more long sleeve shirts to wear during situations like this. Thank God my mom bought me these boots for Christmas last year; without them I’d be wearing what, Converse? They wouldn’t stand a chance out here. Also, thank God no one is around to see this outfit. Boots don’t go well with this Steve Miller Band tee.
I don’t know what I’m running from. The funny thing is, I knew what I was running when I first began running, but I’ve been so focused on getting away that I’ve forgotten. But obviously I have to keep running because...why would I have been running in the first place? Something’s after me. I stop for a second. I hear nothing. I only hear the sound of the wind playfully rustling the leaves like a father playfully tickles his newborn son.
Maybe I’m just being paranoid.. I don’t hear anything now, and I don’t even remember why I was running. Maybe I psyched myself out in the beginning, and I’m not realizing it until now. I look around, hoping that turning my head in different directions will assist my ears in locating in strange noises coming from any area.
Okay, I’m in a forest. What are things that I would run from in a jungle? A jaguar, whom I’ve read is actually the king of the jungle despite the common belief that the lion has that position occupied. So that’s number one on my list. A lion is number two on my list of possibilities, mainly because they must have done something gnarly to have been mistaken for king of the jungle. Maybe if jaguars and lions are jostling for the throne of the jungle they wouldn’t waste their time with someone like me, who isn’t even like sixth in line for such a throne.
I hear the leaves around 50 yards away from me rustle a much more aggressively than the wind would ever make them do. There’s something near, and I’m running again.