The Forceless Will Die

It was survival of fittest. I was not supposed to be participating and was only tasked to observe, but I was here. There were two houses: one, bound to be the object of the experiment; the other, bound to be the camping site of the crew. The participants were to live in the first house, like that of an old Spanish tarnished entirety. Outside was the wilderness, green and dangerous.

The participants started to struggle in discourse on how to live. They decided to open the main door and fill it with basic wooden chairs. In that way, they saw the light and felt the enviroment before it turns into the night time. Father was outside the camping site, cooking rice by fire, disinterested with the jeopardy the cowardice of the participants were showing.

I was inside the first house and felt that I was locked for the wooden chairs were tangled by the door. I realized there was a back door near to where father was cooking. So I did my task of observing by the window. That was when I saw the tiger. It was growling, mad and running. The participants grew exhausted and frightened despite the boundary the house established. I told them confidently: "The tiger could be your food if you corner it." The tiger continued to growl, healthy in its awareness. I could not comprehend if it was mad or it was just showing its tenacity and elegance, owning the territory we invaded.

I wanted to go out and go to the camping site with father, but I absorbed the fear they developed. I could not go out. The tiger was walking right in front of father, not even bothered by this coexistence. It was a defeat, I still could not go out.