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MidReal Story
Desert Mirage: Journey to Survival
Anonymous
May 23
Scenario:During a trip in the Algerian Sahara, my car's engine broke. I am on my own with two liters of water, the nearest town is 250 km away going South East, but I have no compass.
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I’m not sure how long I’ve been walking.
The sun is high in the sky, and the heat is unbearable.
I’ve been trying to keep to the shade of the dunes, but it’s hard to find any relief.
My water bottle is empty, and I haven’t seen a single car since I left my own behind.
I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this.
I’m not even sure how far it is to the nearest town.
The map in my backpack says it’s about 250 km, but I have no idea how far that is on foot.
And I don’t have a compass to guide me.
I should have listened to Sarah and bought one when we were in town yesterday, but I didn’t think I’d need it.
I thought I’d be able to follow the road, but now that my car has broken down, I’m not so sure.
I should have listened to Sarah about a lot of things.
But I wanted to prove her wrong.
I wanted to show her that I was capable of taking care of myself.
And now look where it’s gotten me.
Stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no water and no way to get home.
I can almost hear her voice in my head, telling me what an idiot I am, and I wish she were here with me now.
She would know what to do.
Or at the very least, she would tell me not to panic.
I’m going to die out here, aren’t I?
I can’t help but think of all the things I’ll never get to do, all the places I’ll never get to see.
My family will be devastated.
My friends will be heartbroken.
And it will all be my fault.
I’ve been walking for what feels like hours, but the town is still nowhere in sight.
The backpack on my shoulders feels heavier with each step, and my legs feel like jelly.
The sun is beating down on me, and I can feel myself starting to burn.
There is no shade anywhere, not even a tree or a bush to hide under.
It’s as if the desert is taunting me, reminding me of how helpless I am out here.
I try to keep to the shadow of the dunes, but it’s hard not to expose myself to direct sunlight when the dunes are constantly shifting.
It’s like a cruel joke, and it feels like the desert is laughing at my expense.
It’s so quiet out here, only the sound of sand crunching underfoot as I walk.
It’s eerily still, but at the same time, I can feel the desert coming to life around me.
It’s like it knows I don’t belong here and is trying to swallow me up before anyone can notice I’m gone.
I’ve always been fascinated by deserts, but I never realized how beautiful they can be until now.
There is something mesmerizing about the endless expanse of sand that stretches as far as the eye can see, and for a moment, I forget how scared I am.
But then reality comes crashing back down on me, and I realize how lucky I was to have seen this place in person before it kills me.
I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this.
My mouth is dry, and my throat is sore.
My whole body is starting to hurt, and with each step, it gets harder and harder to put one foot in front of the other.
I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this.
But what choice do I have?
I don’t want to die out here alone in the sand.
I stop for a moment to catch my breath and take another look around me.
I still can’t see any sign of life, just endless dunes in every direction.
For a moment, I think about giving up, about letting the desert claim me as its own.
Maybe it would be easier that way.
I wouldn’t have to try so hard.
I wouldn’t have to be scared.
I wouldn’t have to be alone.
But then I remember Sarah’s face, how she begged me not to come here alone, how she warned me that it was too dangerous, how she told me that I wasn’t ready.
And for a moment, I wonder if maybe she was right.
Maybe I should have listened to her.
I take a deep breath and start walking again, trying to put one foot in front of the other, even though it feels like my legs are going to give out any moment now.
The backpack on my shoulders feels heavier than ever, but I know I can’t take it off.
I need everything in there if I’m going to survive.
I try not to think about how long it’s been since my water ran out or how much farther it is to the town, which is still nowhere in sight.
I try not to think about anything at all, except for putting one foot in front of the other, even though it feels like my whole body is screaming at me to stop.
But there is something deep inside me that refuses to give up, that refuses to let the desert win.
I keep walking, even though every step takes me further away from home.
The sun is starting to set, but the heat is still unbearable.
I’ve been walking for hours, but the town is still nowhere in sight.
I can feel myself getting weaker by the minute, and for a moment, I wonder if this is how it’s going to end.
If maybe Sarah was right all along, and I wasn’t ready for this.
If maybe I should have stayed home where it was safe.
But then I remember why I came here in the first place, what I set out to prove.
And for a moment, I think maybe there’s still a chance.
Maybe there’s still hope.
I start walking again, even though every fiber of my being is telling me to stop.
Everything hurts, but it’s not just the physical pain.
It’s something deeper than that.
It’s something that comes from inside me and threatens to consume me.
It’s like all my past failures are haunting me, like they’re telling me that this is what I deserve.
For a moment, it’s hard to keep going.
For a moment, it’s hard to keep fighting.
But then something inside me snaps, and suddenly, I don’t care about anything else.
The backpack on my shoulders feels impossibly heavy now, and my legs feel like they’re made of lead.
But somehow, I manage to keep going.
Somehow, I manage to put one foot in front of the other.
It’s getting darker now, and there’s still no sign of life anywhere around me.
But I know I have to keep going.
If this is really how it’s going to end, then at least I’ll know that I tried.
It feels like there’s a never-ending source somewhere deep inside me, and for a moment, it almost feels good.
It feels good to let go of all my doubts and fears and regrets.
But then suddenly, there’s nothing left.
And it feels like my whole body is shutting down on me.
The sun is directly above me now, and it feels like it’s sucking all the life out of my body.
I can feel rivulets of sweat running down my back, making my clothes stick to my skin in a way they haven’t since winter in Europe.
My mouth is dry and parched, and all I can think about is how much water I have left in my backpack.
For a moment, I try not to think about how much further there is to go or how long it’ll take or what will happen when my water runs out.
But then all those thoughts come flooding back into my mind.
And they’re so loud and overwhelming that they drown out everything else.
For a moment, I wonder if this is how it ends.
If maybe this time all those doubts and fears and regrets finally had their way with me.
But then something inside me snaps.
And suddenly there’s nothing left except for the burning desire to keep going.
I take off my cap and run my hands through my hair.
The hot breeze is still blowing, but at least it’s not as bad as it was before.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
And for a moment, it feels like everything is going to be okay.
And then I look up at the dunes ahead of me.
And suddenly it feels like everything is crashing down on me again.
The dunes are even bigger than they looked from far away.
And they seem impossibly steep.
And there are so many of them that it seems like it’ll take forever to get over them.
I know that things are about to get much harder than they were before.
And for a moment, it’s hard to keep going.
For a moment, it’s hard to put one foot in front of the other.
The inside of my mouth is starting to feel sticky.
And there’s a dull ache in my head that tells me that it won’t be long before I start to get a headache.
For a moment, it almost feels like things are about to get better.
For a moment, it almost feels like everything will be okay.
And then suddenly there’s nothing left except for the searing pain inside me that seems like it’ll never go away.
I still can’t see anything except for sand all around me.
There’s no sign of life anywhere around me.
There’s just silence everywhere around me.
For a moment, it almost feels like there’s no one else around.
For a moment, it almost feels like maybe that’s true.
And then suddenly there’s another sound coming from far away.
At first it sounds like just another gust of wind blowing through the desert.
But then suddenly it sounds much louder.
