I awoke with a sudden jolt of adrenaline, startled by a noise of unknown origin from further within the unseen recesses of cool and gloomy cavern where I had sought refuge; reborn from hellish nightmares, terrible visions from long ago, once again into a hellish current reality. I was cold, and naked; my mind was in utter chaos, and my body was wracked with intense pain, fresh wounds compounding older ones; fresh fears running rampant driven by the familiarity of long experience. I did not know where I was, but I did know what was out there, somewhere, stalking me.

In caution, I did not rise from the rough floor of gravel and coarse sand where I lay; instead, I held it close and crept forward on my elbows and knees toward the clutter of tumbled stone encircling the entrance of the cavern. Low, and slow, I made my way toward the blessedly pale light of dusk emanating from beyond the boundary of my lair. Pausing among the jumble of blue and grey stones to push myself up slowly on my hands I peered out from gaps between the stones, closely watching the growing shadows for several long minutes before sitting back on the balls of my feet to listen, and to smell the wind. Seeing nothing, meant nothing. Some things which walk this world cannot be seen if they wish not to be seen; it is simply beyond our ability to do so should they wish it. Many times in the colonies I had witnessed it; with the touch of a metallic band worn above the elbow of their left arm, followed by the instantaneous appearance of a pale shimmering red light which would envelope them, they were simply no longer to be seen.

A crawling insect, which I recognized from habit, as safe to eat but did not know the name of caught my attention, and my stomach growled with an insistence which would not be ignored. I quickly picked the insect up, blew the dirt from it and popped it into my mouth. It wasn't good, but neither was it bad; it was simply food, and I ate it, readily. Whatever you called it, it was green segmented with yellow stripes, and moved upon four pairs of legs, or nearly translucent wings. It was crunchy at first before slowly becoming chewy, then finally gooey; yet always it remained pungent, salty and bitter. Next would come the need for fresh water, and that meant going out there, "Beyond."

Going beyond meant being prepared for whatever was next without actually knowing what it might be. There was always, it seemed to me, to be more or less equal amounts of both chaos and luck in the going because one went as best they could; prepared only by experience and whatever they happened to be carrying at any given moment. In this moment, I was frightfully unprepared due to a complete lack of anything to carry; experience I had in abundance, yet equipment I had none. My mind, along with my hands and feet would have to suffice; these alone, I had to carry me through. That's what life is though; accepting things as they are in the moment, acting accordingly, and surviving if you can, to fight another day if you must. I had come to believe that was for the best to acknowledge that in a way, life is really all up to Fate. It was a simple personal philosophy that worked for me, if for no one else.

From my point of view, another breathe is always a gamble because it isn't solely up to us to decide if we will have it; for example, while we may only want water to drink, something in that water might want a meal. It becomes then a matter of fate, a risk we have no choice but to take; therefore it isn't our decision alone to make, it is only ours to participate in. I was thirsty, so the damned thing would just have to eat me, if it could; before I drank my fill of the water from where it lived and hunted. Thirst would surely kill me just as easily as the thing in the river might; only much more slowly, and mercilessly. Things with sharp teeth often killed quickly, but dehydration never did; and that was the only important difference. Death itself is inevitable, and our only task is simply to endure living until it finds us. 

I saw another of those insects, and my hand reached for it instinctively as my stomach growled again, but now my tongue was dry and this one would be harder to consume, but consumed it would be. While water was a thing I desperately needed, and dearly wanted, water was not at hand; and yet food was, so it was gladly taken. Food and water were like breath and blood, or focus and sleep; if one lost enough of any of those things, they died. There was no choice in the reality of those few, simple facts of life; or, that living meant taking risks to fulfill your needs. Thus it followed, logically to me, that while some things were absolutely necessary, others were not; and the less one confused wanting unnecessary things with actually needing things, the simpler and more satisfying daily living became regardless of one's current circumstances. In my way of thinking, bemoaning one's current situation served no purpose, other than to deteriorate their focus.

Moving tentatively outside of the protection afforded to me by the jumbled ring of piled boulders and scattered stones, I emerged into the fresh air and waiting darkness that lay beyond.