He could feel it beating around him.
The sound of the heart of the jungle. It overwhelmed him. The jungle was alive; a living breathing life. A combination of lives all joined together in one big bundle. He could hear them too; the rustle of the leaves as the wind blew through them, the sound of animals talking in a language unknown to the human ear.
He felt like he was a part of it.
As he slowly walked among the trees he became aware of senses he had never realized before. Maybe it was because he was alone, and had been alone for sometime now, but he could swear the jungle was trying to connect with him; trying to tell him something. Still he walked on, not wanting to alter the natural sounds that rustled through the trees. He felt that by just being in the presence of this amazing location he was enjoying such a privilege that he felt honored just to have the opportunity to admire and share in the warm air of the jungle.
He swore to himself that nothing on earth was more beautiful; so much so that never imagine ever wanting to leave. Yes, he may be alone forever on this island but in his opinion he wondered what more could life give you than this? He had lived here for over a month; the greatest month of his life. He belonged here, in a way that he had never belonged before.
That is when he heard it. The sound like knives slashing through the air. These violent swords were chopping through his beloved jungle, destroying parts of it as they descended. He knew what these knives were.
The blades of the rescue helicopter. The people who were coming to transport him to ‘safety’. Their idea of safety being a world filled with guns and violence as compared to the safe haven that was the jungle. What hypocrites.
He used to be like them. Humans. Trying to improve on every aspect of life. Thinking that they could improve on nature. This is perfection, he thought to himself. They were ignorant; controlled by aggression. In the same way that he was controlled by the calm aura of the jungle. How could they ignore this beauty? He watched their empty blank faces as they ignored the sight that was happening right in front of them; of a baby bird leaving its nest for the very first time. Squeaking as it enters the world.
How can they be so blind?
‘Get in the helicopter, sir,’ one of them says. ‘You can leave this horrible place now and get back to your own people!’
He was about to reply; reluctantly follow, like he had always done. Being human it was all he had ever known. But something stopped him.
He took a deep breath in. The smell of freedom.
That was when he knew.
He wasn’t like them anymore. He had a taste of what life could be like.
And he didn’t want to leave.
actually i found the referred overcooked stuff as the best part of it. nice story; good job;
keep it up; all the best.
Hello chloe. Interesting short story. Is it in the less than 500 word category?
The nameless protagonist adds to the uneasiness, as we are not sure quite what he has become other than a being of the jungle.
The sensory stuff at the beginning might be a tad over cooked, though, particularly, "The jungle was alive; a living breathing life." Is there any other kind of life?
Good effort. Enjoyable.