you were on the ground in the woods. Your back against a tree truck and a gash in your thigh that you tried to keep from bleeding out- groaning as you stood and pulled the cloth tied around your leg tighter as you panted and tried to walk forward. Your machete almost slipping to the ground out of your hands. Then you feel again onto the cold ground. The sun shinning down like blinding crystals though the trees. You blinked up at the blueing diamonds in the sky until a man’s face came into view