Here's the third part of a (hopefully) long series <<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>

Chapter 3
As Dashed walked along the street he began to wonder if the voice was right about him dying in this insane land. He almost died today in a fiery death and just a few months ago he became really sick with the flu, he almost died there, and of course there was the feral dog that almost mauled his face into nothingness.

You know, you’re going to die here and nobody is going to remember you. You are going to die alone and unremembered.

Shut up already you’re causing me so many problems can’t you just shut up and let me live? Don’t you know that if I die you won’t have anywhere to live? Dashed said to the voice.

This I realize, but what you and I both know is that I’m only a figment of your imagination and you’re just going to go insane because of your figment of your imagination aka: me.

“SHUT UP YOUR NOT REAL!”

Talking to me will only further your insanity you know

“SHUT UP, OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL TAKE A HAMMER TO MY HEAD UNTIL YOU ARE GONE!”

Go ahead I dare you, you don’t have the guts just like you didn’t have the smarts to save your precious girlfriend.

And after that the voice was silent, Dashed just walked along with tears forming in his eyes.

The day began getting hotter and hotter as the day went on. As the temperature seemed to reach one hundred degrees he had to sit down and take a break. He took a nice long drink from one of his water bottles. After about two minutes he got up, and started walking down the street once more. As he walk he was wrapped in his thoughts about what would happen after he died, would he be reincarnated? Maybe the Christens were right and he would go to either heaven or hell, or maybe he would just die and that would be the end of it. He as he thought about these things he heard the unmistakable of kicking a water bottle. He looked down and he saw a water bottle which normally wouldn’t be a big surprise except for the fact that I looked only a week old. A realization came over him. Dashed had a feeling that rarely came to him anymore took over and made him smile ever so slightly. He now he had unmistakable proof that he was not alone. He started to walk with renewed vigor. The heat seemed to be less intense after that. He noticed it was getting dark and he decided to find shelter once more.

He found a farmhouse within the hour and started to head towards it all the time thinking about the water bottle and fantasizing why kind of person was walking along that road. When he reached the front door of the house he drew his pistol and slowly opened the door, going through his normal feral animal check. He explored the small two story house and searched every room. I wasn’t a bad house by any means, three bedrooms, two stories, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a pretty good living room with a broken flat screen T.V. and two couches. Finding nothing of danger he plopped his backpack next to the couch and muttered to himself,

“Home, sweet home… for the night.”

Ya, I could get used to this.

It was the voice again, he had to find someone else to talk to before he just went crazy. Dashed looked in the basement to see if the pluming still worked. To his utter amazement it still did. Overjoyed he quickly raced upstairs and took a nice long shower. Boy did he need one! The last time he had an actual shower was over six months ago in a completely different household, and the last time he was in a river to wash off was about a week ago. As Dashed cleaned himself extremely carefully and slowly washed all the dirt that was clinging onto him he noticed that there were even dry towels hanging for him. Not really thinking about it he pulled the towel off the bar and started drying himself. After his shower he refilled some of his water bottles from the sink and then he went into the living room. He laid down on the couch and began to write.

April 6, 2015
Today I almost died. When I woke up it was pouring so as always I started to draw, and as I drew I thought about Olivia for a little while. I almost died when mere minutes after leaving the house it exploded, probably because I turned on the natural gas. That alone was scary enough and as walked the voice started to talk to me once more. This time it admitted to being a figment of my imagination. However there is still a chance for hope because today while walking I ran into a water bottle that looked not a week old. That right there is proof enough that there is someone actually here besides me.

After writing this he suddenly felt tired and drifted off into sleep.

After a night of dreaming about actually talking to someone Dashed got up hungry and at about noon if he had a watch. However this isn’t what he noticed at first. Over the night the temperature dropped 15 degrees in a freak cold front. He pulled his backpack up took out his trench coat, a can of corn, and then a can of pork and beans all the while getting out some potatoes that he picked up on a passing farm field. He went outside and using his basic fire building skills and a lighter he started to make a stew using his pan that he always carried with him. After eating he took a glance inside his pack and saw that he was running low on canned goods and food in general. Wiping his mouth as he stood up he went into the kitchen to, hopefully find some canned goods. He opened up the cupboards hoping to find some canned goods. He found none but in the last cupboard he saw something that made his heart jump. With a trembling hand he reached out and took a hold of a note. He couldn’t believe it, an actual note left by, apparently, a women it read:

To anyone who reads this I am housed up in the very small town of Bolder if you are reading this note and are not insane please come to the Bolder post office at high noon. I am going to remain in the town for 2 years and if nobody comes within that time I am going to be heading into Canada via Minnesota.
- Carla T. Anderson

Dashed was so happy to read this that he almost didn’t read the date.

It was labeled May 2 2014.