Read Online Savage (Daughters of the Jaguar) by Willow Rose - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Willow Rose
Ads: Link
thicket or other secluded spot. It first eats the neck and chest, then moves on to the heart and lungs. I have to say that it is rare, though, that jaguars attack humans, mainly because it is too much work, I think. Sometimes, if scared or threatened, jaguars in captivity may lash out at zookeepers. But in a situation like this where the man wasn’t able to fight for his life it would surely eat him. It is in its nature.”
“So what’s your explanation to why it would leave this young man on the ground?”
The expert shrugged. “What can I say? Sometimes nature surprises us."
"So you don't have an explanation for it?"
"Well, it might have been scared away by something. That is my only explanation. Either that or it was a completely different kind of animal that the youngsters saw. As I have been told they had been drinking and smoking marijuana.”
Heather turned off the TV while my heart was pounding in my chest. To believe I had faced an animal like that, one that could drag an eight hundred-pound bull and could pulverize the heaviest bones with its bite, that was the strongest among the big cats, and lived to tell about it was beyond my comprehension. It was simply unbelievable, as Danielle had put it.
The next couple of days are really a blur to me. All I remember is I was a mess. I was tortured, I was in pain and agony. The voices in my head hadn't stopped and I was still seeing pictures before my eyes constantly. Pictures that made absolutely no sense to me. Images of people that I didn't know in places I had never been. Voices whispering or talking, telling me stuff I didn't know what to do with or even decipher. It all became one big mess in my head and I had no idea how to stop it again. At first I blamed it on the painkillers that I was still taking. People would say behind my back that I was depressed, that these feelings were normal when you had a trauma like that. It was expected. I just needed time.
Inside of me it was like being on an emotional rollercoaster. I slept in until after noon, I lay in bed all day indifferently watching shows on TV. One moment I would cry thinking about my mother and seeing her and wanting desperately to hear her voice again, wishing that I had died and could be with her, even sometimes wanting to die and go back to that peaceful place where I had seen her again.
And in the next moment I would laugh hysterically over nothing and be extremely grateful for the simplest things, like sugar in my coffee or the feeling of the wind in my hair when I went outside, basically just being happy that I was still alive. Then the feeling would change out of the blue and I would suddenly feel guilty for being alive, for surviving when so many people around the world died meaningless deaths every day of hunger or in natural disasters. I asked myself constantly why I had to be the one who was allowed to come back. Why did I get a second chance? Was there a meaning to it after all? Was there a purpose, did I have a purpose on this planet?
I had never believed in those things before, but for the first time since my mother’s death I felt doubt. I knew what I had seen. I knew it was true. There was something greater than us out there and I had seen it. I had been there and felt how wonderful a place it was. A place where I had felt no pain or sorrow.
I became almost obsessed with life after death. I wanted to read about it, I wanted to talk to everybody about what they believed in, what they thought happened to you when you died. I drove Maria nuts with all my questions that she had no time to answer with all her housework. When Heather came home from school I would move on to her and start bothering her about it. She had no patience with my newfound search for purpose, and soon I realized that I was alone with this. No one believed that I had actually seen my mother or those other people. It was all just in your brain, they said.
I didn’t care where it was. I wanted to figure
“So what’s your explanation to why it would leave this young man on the ground?”
The expert shrugged. “What can I say? Sometimes nature surprises us."
"So you don't have an explanation for it?"
"Well, it might have been scared away by something. That is my only explanation. Either that or it was a completely different kind of animal that the youngsters saw. As I have been told they had been drinking and smoking marijuana.”
Heather turned off the TV while my heart was pounding in my chest. To believe I had faced an animal like that, one that could drag an eight hundred-pound bull and could pulverize the heaviest bones with its bite, that was the strongest among the big cats, and lived to tell about it was beyond my comprehension. It was simply unbelievable, as Danielle had put it.
The next couple of days are really a blur to me. All I remember is I was a mess. I was tortured, I was in pain and agony. The voices in my head hadn't stopped and I was still seeing pictures before my eyes constantly. Pictures that made absolutely no sense to me. Images of people that I didn't know in places I had never been. Voices whispering or talking, telling me stuff I didn't know what to do with or even decipher. It all became one big mess in my head and I had no idea how to stop it again. At first I blamed it on the painkillers that I was still taking. People would say behind my back that I was depressed, that these feelings were normal when you had a trauma like that. It was expected. I just needed time.
Inside of me it was like being on an emotional rollercoaster. I slept in until after noon, I lay in bed all day indifferently watching shows on TV. One moment I would cry thinking about my mother and seeing her and wanting desperately to hear her voice again, wishing that I had died and could be with her, even sometimes wanting to die and go back to that peaceful place where I had seen her again.
And in the next moment I would laugh hysterically over nothing and be extremely grateful for the simplest things, like sugar in my coffee or the feeling of the wind in my hair when I went outside, basically just being happy that I was still alive. Then the feeling would change out of the blue and I would suddenly feel guilty for being alive, for surviving when so many people around the world died meaningless deaths every day of hunger or in natural disasters. I asked myself constantly why I had to be the one who was allowed to come back. Why did I get a second chance? Was there a meaning to it after all? Was there a purpose, did I have a purpose on this planet?
I had never believed in those things before, but for the first time since my mother’s death I felt doubt. I knew what I had seen. I knew it was true. There was something greater than us out there and I had seen it. I had been there and felt how wonderful a place it was. A place where I had felt no pain or sorrow.
I became almost obsessed with life after death. I wanted to read about it, I wanted to talk to everybody about what they believed in, what they thought happened to you when you died. I drove Maria nuts with all my questions that she had no time to answer with all her housework. When Heather came home from school I would move on to her and start bothering her about it. She had no patience with my newfound search for purpose, and soon I realized that I was alone with this. No one believed that I had actually seen my mother or those other people. It was all just in your brain, they said.
I didn’t care where it was. I wanted to figure
Similar Books
