Paradise. That is the one goal for any survivor. Across these deserted lands with dried up lakes, what else could someone hope for? As their skin peels and they bleed through chapped lips.

They travel day by day, with only a restless couple hours of sleep to keep them going, consumed by the idea of something as great as an oasis in this desolate world.

Some fail, starvation eating at their insides as they lay there, empty eyes gazing into the distance where they prayed to find paradise. Their mind trapped elsewhere, never receiving its biggest desire for freedom.

The fire crackles in front of me, brittle wood breaking apart in the heat. There, my dinner roasts, a pitiful meal of one scrappy little lizard. It would have to be enough for now. My worn bag and blanket serve as my pillows for the night as I attempt to close my eyes and rest without the ever-present paranoia eating at the corners of my mind.

The next day begins much the same as every one for the past two months. The one change being the sight of decaying body with its arm still reaching out for unknown glory. I look away, swallowing down the bile attempting to come back up. Even though I am surrounded by death, I could never get used to the sight of another person laying like I could be in a few days.

Night falls. A fire. No meal tonight. Wake up. Walk. Repeat.

I can hardly even think through the haze in my mind, my muscle memory the only thing keeping me walking through ever trip and stumble. Eventually, though, I realize I’m facing the wrong way. I blink rapidly, seeing the sun in front of me instead of above. I cough, my frail bones and lungs aching at the movement, but even so, I don’t have the energy to even wince. Nor can I even move, so I don’t even bother.

I stare at the sun for hours, and when it sets, I close my eyes in agreement.

I think I laid there for a few days, but it could have just been hours. I know the sun set once, but I didn’t register any others. A sudden change makes my eyebrows furrow, though. Even with my eyelids closed, I could see the light leaking through; however, it changed in an instant, leaving the darkness swarming beneath my eyelids. I risk a peek, finding the energy to slowly open my eyes.

“Huh, seems you’re not dead, yet.”

A man looks down at me from above, the sun tinting his light brown hair an interesting shade of caramel.

I attempt to speak but my lips just tremble slightly, a pathetic excuse for words.

He sighs and reaches down. His arms come up to rest under my back and knees as he cradles me to his chest.

“Relax. We’ll be there soon. Don’t die on me just yet.”

I recede in and out of consciousness, but later on, I swear I see lights and voices drift in and out of my ears. I can only hope its not just my memories.

I barely register a change in position as the strong arms settle me gently onto something soft. Then, I am pulled up and a press of something settles against my lips.

“Drink up, and then you can rest.”

The water soothes my throat and cracked lips, and with the refreshment, I can finally manage the words “thank you” before I fall asleep once more.