Polar Bear

Chris Krueger

So here I lay. Broken leg, broken other leg, broken arm. That hill looks a little steeper than it did from the other direction. Enough food and water in my bag for two or three days. Good thing I remembered a few painkillers too. You never know when you might strain a leg, or want help enjoying a view. Hiking in Northern Canada, it could be fun right? Probably should have brought a friend, maybe someone who has a bigger “well that’s not a good idea” part of the brain. What do I do now? Pray? Try to crawl back? Fuck. Crawling hurts. I guess this isn’t a bad place to die. It’s pretty enough. That might just be the drugs talking.

Sun’s up. This blows. I hear noises but they are never people. Why can’t animals speak English? I wish I brought a Gameboy or something. Laying around and dying gets pretty boring after awhile. I wish this was a movie, I would speed up my death and right when was about to go… here comes the helicopter! Just in time. Stupid bullshit reality.

Pains gone again, my sobriety with it. I love you, my little pill bottle. On second thought I probably shouldn’t have taken that on an empty stomach. The trees are spinning, I think I should rest my eyes

Sun’s a little dimmer than the last time my eyes were open. What the fuck is that? A bear? You have got to be kidding me. Sure, it’s faster and probably less painful than starving to death but I still have a few protein bars left. Maybe it doesn’t see me. That hope lasted long… Why the hell did I lock eyes with it? Now I can’t look away. What am I supposed to do? Act big? Play dead? Scream at it? I’m going to pick the wrong one and it is going to kill me. Here it comes. Slow and curious. I wish I could get my last working limb to stop shaking. Just 10 feet away now, asshole is taking its time I guess. Why is it up on its hind legs? You don’t have to intimidate me you massive fur ball, I’m already sweating bullets. I need to do something. “AHHHHH” that was pitiful. I think I pissed it off. Here we go again, one step, two steps, three steps closer. It’s in my face. Should I throw a punch? My inner thigh is warm and damp. I hope that dries before someone finds my body. I can taste its wretched breath. Mouth just opened, I close my eyes. A burst of air followed by wet gooey chunks. That fucker sneezed on me. I wipe snot out of my eyes. He’s walking away? What the hell? I wish I had a Gameboy. 


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