Stuck in a beartrap, Days 1-3

DAY 1:
Here I am, stuck in a beartrap. I became stuck at about 11 this morning, and it is now about noon. My surprise was great, as one might imagine, since I have never seen a beartrap in these woods before, nor have I even seen a bear. What might one be trying to trap using a beartrap in an area of the woods with no bears? A person, perhaps. In which case, well done.

The teeth are sharp, no doubt about that. My leg has gone numb, thankfully. It happened quite quickly, in fact, which is why I was able to collect my thoughts enough to begin composing this journal entry. The blood which is clotting in my leg and showing through my jeans is gross, no doubt, but all I have to do is look away and I am even able to forget that I am in a beartrap at all. So no need for panic just yet. I imagine that the person who set it will be around in a matter of hours to check up on it. One would not just leave a beartrap in the woods and then forget about it. For one, if he were to catch a bear, one would assume that he had the hope of catching more bears in the future, in which case it would make little sense to set a trap and leave it there forever. Waste of a perfectly good trap.

When my leg was first ensnared, I assumed that there was some kind of safety device in the back or something that would allow me to open it. No such luck. Perhaps the company that created the device worried that it would be accidentally activated by a bear, and then what do you have on your hands? An angry bear, and that's always the worst kind of bear.

Maybe I simply haven't found the release. I'll start poking around a little more.

Five minutes later: I tightened it. Holy mother of fuck that hurts. Note for later: do not pull that latch in the back. FAAAAACK.

DAY 2:
I passed out shortly after my last entry. Had a nice sleep. Dreamed I was at home, and when I tried to flip on the lights there was a delay, as if someone else were watching me and flipping the real switch when he saw that I wanted the lights on. As if I had no control over the actual lights, but Someone wanted me to believe I did. Wish my therapist were around to tell that one too. He would have found it smashing.

Still stuck in the beartrap. No real change re: that situation. I have been afraid to tinker around with it ever since the last time, when I hurt myself quite badly pulling the wrong latch or something. I studied the entire apparatus closely this morning and found nothing that caught my eye. Just that goddamn latch. How I hate that latch.

It would be easy to blame myself for being stuck in this beartrap, and it would be equally easy--perhaps even easier--to blame someone else. The person who laid the trap in particular, and all the bears who have ever walked the earth who never had the misfortune to stumble into this trap before me. But I have not done this, and of this restraint I am quite proud. Blame will not extricate my leg from these steel teeth any quicker, so why waste the energy and cause myself the mental hassle? No reason. My only regret is that I was not fooled by some more clever trap. A beartrap is so brutish and stupid. Maybe the old pie-on-a-blanket-somehow-suspended-over-a-pit trick. Or a complicated device involving a noose on the ground and a small tree, bent over and ready to fling me in the air. Or something more complicated, involving wires and pulleys and buckets suspended over my head. Something that would be easy to miss and easier to fall for. Something I could tell my friends or my therapist about with no shame. What will I say? "Yup, fell for the old beartrap. No, it wasn't hidden, just a big ol' silver beartrap in the middle of the woods. Stepped right in the middle of it. Just wasn't expecting a beartrap to be there, that's all." Embarrassing.

Further examination confirms that the one latch I pulled is the only thing on the back of the beartrap. So why is it there if its only purpose is to tighten? Perhaps I pulled it the wrong way last time. Or I was not meant to pull at all, but to push.

Pain worse than before. DO NOT TOUCH THE LATCH. AT ALL. FOR ANY REASON. EVER. Passing out again.

DAY 3:
Saw a bear today. My first, in these woods. I could swear the smug son of a bitch was smiling at me.

Perhaps the bear set the trap for me? Diabolical. One wonders why he does not let me go, so that he may reset the trap and use it to trap someone else. Hurt someone else. But I am thinking like a human. A human would set the trap to keep bears away from his property in the future, and he would do this by trying to trap as many bears as possible, so they would talk to each other and warn each other of the danger and learn. Maybe this bear is more sadistic than we humans. Maybe the point is not to hurt many humans a little bit, but to cause great, unbearable amounts of hurt to just one person.

An animal more sadistic than humans? Wouldn't have thought it possible.

More assured than ever that there is a way out of this trap. If it were designed for bears to capture humans, then surely the humans creating the device would subvert their bear customers and create some kind of way for their fellow men to escape. Some kind of latch, perhaps. Last time I pushed the latch, I think, and it jerked right. It occurs to me that the first time I fiddled with the latch I turned it right. Perhaps that's why it hurt me twice. What's the old rhyme? Righty tighty leftly loosey. Boy will my face have been red if I were to free myself after three days, only because I hadn't thought of turning of trying the latch in both directions! I have to try it, really.

Latch seems to have same effect in both directions. NO MORE LATCH NO NO NO NO NO MORE LATCH DON'T DO IT.