Hunger engulfed me in the forest; my stomach turned my head and moved my legs to search for a way to satisfy its craving. After every berry, beans, and pasta I picked up, I heard footsteps appear and disappear. I put them in my basket and pushed the leaves out of my way to look for animals and water. When I saw a lone beef in the forest, I could smell the beef baking in my oily pant filled with diced onion with a sprinkle of oregano, minced garlic, and other spices. My mouth watered only for a second.

             A shadow ran across the forest, leaving only a stoned path behind and I jumped back, tore a leaf from the tree, and covered my mouth.

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             I glanced back at the path I came from and saw shadows disperse, eyes behind leaves. I threw away the leaf and avoided both pathways. The predators come from the shadows; I must find another way.

             I saw whimpering houselights faraway. Houses had meat, light, paper, and probably people. I took out my phone from my purse and looked at my contact list: mom, grandmother, brother, my boss, coworker, and friends.

             I used to meet with these people, laugh, talk, and argue with them. I would walk with them on the street; the lamps would shine brightly at night and we could visit any store; they were always open and always stocked with different items: fruits, nuts, meat, lentils, beans, frozen delicacies. The AC brought smoothing cold weather just like today and I would plug in my earphone to listen to the music, not looking to avoid shadows and hunting for the essentials. I would smile at some people at the same place and time and we go on our different ways, belly full and thirst satisfied.

             “Are you okay?” A message from a friend faraway.

             “Good. How about you?” I replied as my foot stamped a pathway on the sparkling ground. Ever since the predators came, the rest of humanity became obsessed with water; sprinkle some water here, sprinkle some water there. Make it shiny, make it clean, and the predators won’t catch you. That was the new mantra for the people.

             “Good.” A new message popped up on my phone. “How’s your hunt going? Have you found any paper?”

             I came across a small water well; a sparkle of oasis in this oddly serene forest. I let the water clean my hands as I watched a single chicken wander about and disappear into the depths of the forest. Then another. Then another.

             A shadow of a human ran after the chicken.  Then another.

             I shook my hands and kept watch on the horde chickens dancing in the forest, inviting me to take them down, cook them over the fire, season them, and serve them with the small box of rice I’ve found two weeks ago.

             “Not yet, but I have to,” I texted and ran after the chickens.

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             I pulled out a mask from my purse and hastily put it on my face, covering my mouth and nose. I danced around the obstacles and grabbed random items from the ground: cheese, milk, broccoli, strawberries, and oatmeal.

             I stopped about 10 meters away from the shadows. They surrounded dead chickens like wild animals. I couldn’t tell shadows from shadows apart; they appeared and disappeared, some screeched like some wild red fox, some didn’t.

             My phone vibrated. I ignored it and circled around the shadows. Footsteps circled around me too, everyone waiting for the moment to attack and seize what will be theirs. When did my life become a survival movie?

             I loved people but hated the shadows. They used to be people, but I didn’t care what they used to be or always were. They took everything away from me without a care and realization. Horded up piles of essentials items: food, paper, water, everything. I understood that the predators are hunting them too, but it seemed like they forgot about us. That humanity needed to survive as well.

             I saw some of the shadows disperse and took my chance. I ran towards the dead chickens, picked up one, no two, no three chickens and walked away. I examined my surroundings – there were no shadows around – and took off my mask. Whether the predators found me or not, I wouldn’t know. They are invisible to the eyes and loves to take their time in devouring and following people.

             They invaded Earth only a couple months ago, but it feels like it’s been years. Waking up, eating food, then leftovers, and going out to hunt every two weeks, then go back, and repeat.   

             I felt my phone vibrate and I glanced at. Another message from my friend. I can reply later, I thought as I checked if there are any other ingredients I need. Paper of course, but like usually, there isn’t any. That’s the first thing the shadows usually come for and I refuse to become one of them; wake up dawn to horde up everything at first light.

             I will never be like of them who took away my place and future and left us out here for the predators to take us. Don’t they know that the predators go for the groups first? So what’s the point in overcrowding everything for paper when it can mean death for them all?

             “No, but I’ve found chicken! 😊” I texted back as I browsed through my text histories.

              Before, the shadows took over Earth, I made plans with my friends to hang out and talk about nothings. The predators were lurking by even then, but the civilization was not lost and there were no shadows.

              They reminded me what reality once was when I met with them, talked, laughed, and argued with them. I wore casual, semi-casual, or formal clothes when I met up with them. Now I wore pajamas at home and casual at outside. My phone was the only thing connecting me to civilization. That people still existed; they were simply hiding like me.

             I saw a gate with the words “EXIT” written on it and a person standing by it. I put on my mask and walked towards it. Many shadows were waiting in line to go through it. Up close, they really looked like humans. They were casual clothes with a basket in their hands and a mask covering their face.

             When it was my turn, a person standing by the exit. She looked through my basket and said,

             “That would be 50 dollars.”

***

             On my way home, I saw multiple shadows inside houses; they had lamps and lights, toilet paper, and food with them; a horde of them. They danced around the light like they are mocking the people. Like they are laughing that while humanity is in hiding and starving, they have everything: meals, paper, water, light.

             At least I was able to find meat this time, I thought as I walked inside my apartment and brought inside each of my items in one by one. I heard whisperings nearby, so I sped up and ran inside. I tore off my mask and put on some music to keep my mind off their cruelty. I turned on the light and danced to my kitchen to make my spaghetti. The scents of oregano, basil, and thyme filled up my apartment as I cooked.

             The shadows watched me from outside and cried.