Lost and Alone

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As we drove along with nothing but highway stretched out before us, the sun dipping low on the horizon, painting the sky in beautiful colors of gold and violet. The only thing breaking the silence was the hum of the van’s engine, but my mind was anything but quiet. I gripped the steering wheel tightly. The photograph of the beach still on my mind. The idea of seeing Jake there, of finally finding him, felt almost too good to be true. For the first time since he left, I allowed myself to feel hope, even as my mind whispered caution.

Max stirred beside me, his head lifting from his spot in the passenger seat. He glanced at me, his warm brown eyes full of trust, and I reached over to scratch behind his ears. “Almost there, boy,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I meant the rest stop up ahead or the dream of the beach just a few hours south.

The rest stop appeared slowly on the other side of a hill. It didn't have much, a small clearing on the side of the highway with a couple of picnic tables and an overhang covering a few vending machines. I pulled the van into a spot near the bathrooms but also close to the open field for Max. He was at the door before I even finished parking, his tail wagging furiously.

The rest stop looked similar to this but I don't think this was the place we actually stopped at

“Hold on,” I laughed. As soon as I opened the door, he darted out, his usual ball of energy. “Max!” I called, stepping out of the van, expecting him to run a quick lap and return like he always did.

But he didn’t. 

The seconds stretched into a minute, and then another. I scanned the rest stop, calling his name, my voice echoing into the quiet. No response. Panic began to claw at my chest as I realized he wasn’t just exploring nearby—he was gone.

It wasn't the first time I felt afraid since leaving home, but it was the first time I felt fear while being all alone. Max wasn’t just my pet, he was my anchor, my companion. The only friend I had. And now, as the sun was setting, I realized just how terrifying and large the world was without him.

The search begins

I jogged across the rest stop, calling Max’s name as my voice echoed off the trees. My heart pounded harder with each passing second. He was always the loyal one, never straying far from my side. Where could he have gone?

“Max! Come on, boy!” I shouted, my tone growing more frantic. I checked under picnic tables, peered behind the vending machine, and scanned the tree line. Nothing. The rest stop was eerily still, the faint hum of passing cars on the highway the only sound cutting through the silence.

I swallowed hard, trying to stay calm. “Okay,” I whispered to myself, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. “He’s probably chasing a squirrel or something. He’ll come back.”

I told myself he'd come back one hundred times but it didn't stop the pit in my stomach from growing. I headed toward the edge of the parking lot. the gravel crunching beneath my feet echoed loudly in my ears. I approached the forest, the trees seemed darker now, their shadows stretching far and wide. I put my hands around my mouth and shouted again. “Max! Come here, buddy!”

Still nothing.

The sun was sinking lower, casting everything in a golden haze that would soon give way to darkness. A chill ran through me, but I shook it off, determined to keep looking. I walked further down a dirt trail leading into the trees, my footsteps heavy with worry. Branches snapped underfoot as I ventured deeper, calling Max’s name until my voice felt hoarse.

I thought of Jake as I searched. He always knew what to do in a crisis. When I was little I wondered off at the county fair, it was Jake who found me. He hugged me tight and scolded me for wandering off. He’d been my rock. Always there to reassure me when the world was too big for me and overwhelming. Now, I was alone. Nothing but the quiet of the woods, with no Jake and no Max, I felt a terrifying emptiness creeping in, I became frantic.

Pushing deeper into the forest, I found myself scanning every shadow, every rustle of leaves. “Max! Where are you?” I yelled again, my voice cracking. Panic clawed at my chest as the thought hit me—*What if I don’t find him? What if he’s really gone?*

The hours dragged on, and my legs grew heavy. I kept moving, circling back to the rest stop and then fanning out in new directions, hoping for a sign—any sign. But the only sounds were the wind in the trees and the occasional chirp of crickets. The world around me felt indifferent, as if it didn’t care that I’d just lost the one thing keeping me tethered.

The sky was fading as the sun went down. It went from gold to gray, almost symbolic of my life. My stomach twisted with hunger. I didn't realize it until then but I hadn’t eaten all day. Up until that point I was too consumed by the need to find Max. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn’t just looking for my dog Max. I was trying to hold on to something that felt stable. Something that made the loneliness bearable.

But as the light dimmed, the shadows deepened, and I couldn’t shake the fear that I might never see him again.

Returning to the Van

I walked back to the van. As I made it back the last traces of the sun had disappeared. The golden glow from it was now replaced by the silver of the rising moon. My legs felt heavy. My throat raw from calling Max’s name and lack of water. The air was cold. It bit at my skin, and the stillness around me felt suffocating.

I stood by the van, staring at the empty shell that once felt so warm. My heart and mind it a battle to decide the truth. Max was gone.

I leaned against the driver’s side door and closed my eyes. I took a deep shaky breath. I wanted to cry and scream, but I had no energy left. For hours, I’d walked the woods, calling his name, went towards anything I thought he might be chasing. But he wasn’t there.

The thought struck me with sharp clarity—this was the first time in my life I was truly alone. No Jake. No Max. Just me and the relentless silence.

I climbed into the van, slamming the door harder than I meant to. The sound echoed into the still night, but it didn’t bring the comfort I hoped for. I turned on the dome light, its dim glow casting long shadows across the cramped space. The van felt unbearably empty. Max’s leash sat coiled on the passenger seat, a cruel reminder of his absence.

Pulling my knees to my chest, I wrapped myself in one of the blankets I’d tossed onto the bed. I was cold, hungry, and completely drained. My stomach growled angrily, but the thought of eating felt wrong. I hadn’t earned that comfort—not when Max was out there, scared and alone.

The ache in my chest grew heavier as I thought about Jake. He would’ve known what to do. He always did. But Jake wasn’t here, and neither was Max. It was just me now, left to figure it out. And I didn’t have a clue how.

As I lay down, the van creaked every time I shifted my weight. I stared at the ceiling, then the walls, then the ceiling again. My tears blurred my vision. My mind raced, hopping from one “what if” to the next. "What if I never find him? What if he's hurt and needs me?" The thought was too much to bear.

I closed my eyes, begging for sleep to come, but it wouldn’t. The silence of the night pressed in around me, amplifying every sound. The faint rustle of the trees. The groan of the van settling into place. The erratic beat of my own heart. It was all too suffocating.

Eventually, exhaustion won. My body relaxed just enough to let me drift into an uneasy sleep. 

Then, a sound.

A faint rustle.

I sat up, my heart was already racing. My breath fast as a lump formed in my throat. "Did I imagine it?" I thought. But there it was again. A soft noise, just outside the van. 

I held my breath, ears straining. “Max?” I whispered into the darkness. 

The van creaked again, but this time it wasn’t me moving. Something or someone, was out there.

Previous Chapter: Strangers on a Lonely Road: When Trusting My Instincts Was My Only Option
Next Chapter: The Thin Line Between Hope and Fear