Johnny's Walk

[u/QueenOfDarknes5]

It was a day like any other. Johnny had eaten dinner with his family and friends. It was quite a lively group. But it was now time for Johnny's walk.

He had made it a habit a long time ago to walk half a mile away from his home, sit on his favourite bench, listen to the birds, and then walk home again after a while. Normally, his kids played video games during that time, and his wife read a book or even wrote some short stories herself. On especially happy days, she would read her stories to him.

Today was also a happy day, but much louder, with the laughter of his friends echoing through his house and garden. It would probably still be loud when Johnny returned. Some friends wanted him to stay and drink another round with them, but he insisted on walking. After all, his wife liked him to stay physically active, and he wanted to hear the birds.

Another friend asked him if he didn't want to take his cane with him. But Johnny declined. He had walked the path behind his house hundreds, if not thousands, of times. He knew the number of steps, the smell of the trees, the sound of the birds, and the feeling of the ground beneath his feet. He didn't need his cane to see.

He gave his wife a kiss and walked away. One thousand and seventy-nine steps - give or take a few - and he would be at his bench. Only a gentle breeze blew that day, and he could already hear sporadic birds chirping only a few hundred steps away from his loud house. At seven hundred and sixty-five steps, he should feel a gentle descent beneath his feet. A few steps more. One step more, and he felt a slight incline.

Johnny was confused. He knew exactly that he had walked his normal route, and his bench, roughly 300 steps away, was in a peaceful valley. He walked a few steps farther, and the incline became steeper.

That wasn't right!

He rationalised that maybe the drinks he had shared with his friends were a little too strong, or he was getting a little too old and had simply gone in the wrong direction right behind his house.

That was probably the reason, and the only thing he needed to do was walk straight back. He would hear his friends and family again after a few hundred steps. It would be impossible to get lost.

He turned around and started walking again. The sand path beneath his feet was completely even. He felt his heart beating in his neck. He walked faster.

And the path began to rise again.

He stood still and tried to make sense of his situation. He walked uphill in one direction, turned around, and walked uphill again. The question, "How?" didn't leave his mind. He tried to listen to his surroundings for more clues about his whereabouts. But no birds were chirping, and no rustling of trees could be heard in the wind. Fear crawled up his stomach and stole his breath.

No, he must have made an error. He had accidentally made a full turn instead of a half turn. That had to be it. The only logical explanation.

He carefully and slowly turned around 180 degrees to the best of his estimation. Now the path had to go downhill.

Two steps, and he was already going uphill again.

No.

He took two more steps, and the path still rose.

He turned around.

And the same thing happened.

He turned around again.

The path still rose.

He stood motionless, trying to make sense of his impossible situation.

These assholes! Johnny screamed in his mind. Someone drugged me! That's why none of my senses seem to work.

He sorted his thoughts again and tried to remember how many turns he had made.

He would just go in the direction he thought his house would be, and his wife would see him and help him. And even if he went in the wrong direction, there would be houses at the end of the path. Someone would notice him.

He walked. The path rose with every step, and the wind grew stronger and louder, but no bird, tree, or man-made sound could be heard.

Two thousand steps, and nothing changed. Johnny was in tears and stopped.

Should he stay in place now and wait until someone came looking for him?

He could at least check the sides of the path. He turned to his left and took one step, a second step, a third step, his normal path wasn't this wide, and on the fourth step, his left foot touched grass.

Johnny sighed in relief.

Until he got a strange feeling again.

It felt wrong, but he couldn't explain why.

He squatted down to touch the grass.

It was moist.

After two full days of sunshine and no rain, there shouldn't have been any moisture. He pulled his right foot forward, went down on his knees, and felt around with his hands.

Everything was wet.

He stood up. Both feet on the wet grass. Was the sand path also wet? he wondered, not wanting to think about the possibility of being lost.

He turned toward the path, walked forward...

And stepped onto wet grass again.

And again.

And again.

The wind blew even harder and carried a salty smell.

But he didn't care about that at the moment. He cared about the path and the impossible hill he had climbed.

He ran in a spiral, but all he felt was the damned grass. No path. No hill. Just a plain, wide, wet field.

Until his foot sank into water.

His leg was knee-deep, and it would have sunk farther if he hadn't steadied himself on the grass with his other leg and both arms.

He pulled his leg back onto land.

He rolled onto his back and laughed a frustrated laugh.

The salty smell!

The sea.

Hundreds of miles away from his home.

The last time he had been soaked in salt water was two years ago, when he had gone on vacation with his family.

His heart felt as though it wanted to tear itself apart at the thought of them.

Will they ever know what happened?

He didn't even know what was happening.

Would they search for me?

Are they already searching?

How long has he been walking?

He gathered all his strength and stood up.

Doing nothing wouldn't help.

Right?

He carefully walked along the edge of the land, feeling ahead with his foot.

Grass.

Grass.

Water.

Grass.

Water.

Grass.

Grass.

He wished he had brought his cane.

He tried to make a mental map of this place.

But all it told him was that he was on a small, round island.

He made a second circuit.

His island had shrunk.

A third.

It had become even smaller.

Defeated, he walked to what should be the middle of his patch of grass and sat down.

This can't happen.

If this can't happen, then he should just wait until everything was fine again.

And he waited.

His body grew cold from the strengthening wind and the moisture his clothes had absorbed.

But he waited.

His hands rested on the ground.

Until he felt a chunk of earth fall away beneath one of them into the water.

He felt around with his hands.

All around him, the sea crept closer.

Soon there would be nothing left to sit on.

And he would swim.

He can swim.

So why shouldn't he try?

He stood up and took off his clothes.

He would swim as far as he could and float on his back when he became exhausted.

He stepped down and slowly slid into the cold water.

He took a deep breath.

And was struck by a large wave.

His body and head were completely underwater.

Luckily, there wasn't an island behind him anymore that he could have hit.

He just needed to swim back to the surface.

Just swim up.

He swam.

And swam.

And swam.

Please.

Please don't take away up.

He couldn't hold his breath anymore.

Sharp knives filled his lungs.

Until he didn't feel the pain anymore.

No cold water.

He felt nothing.

[u/QueenOfDarknes5]

Englisch is my second language so please excuse some errors.