Night near Utanobore

The narrow road led me into a creepy forest. There should be a campground somewhere around here, but either I mixed up the direction, or I drove past it or didn't make it there. In the falling darkness I lost all my bearings. Between the trees, through the darkness, I can see a bus. Maybe it's a tourist van, I drive closer. No, it's just an abandoned bus with a torn-up interior. No idea how it ended up here. Somewhere nearby a stream is babbling. I'm alone in the forest.

I need to find a place to sleep for the night. Going back about five kilometers, I found a house by the road, and across from it a big field with tall grass. The tent was set up there. I can't shake the thought of a bear. An inexplicable feeling of fear, based only on my imagination. I fall asleep with a knife in my hand. In the darkness, far from cars and people, every rustle can be heard. Every insect rubbing against the tent and every falling leaf. Every little sound disturbs my sleep. Suddenly I hear footsteps. This isn't human. The gait is heavy, dull thuds against the ground. A sound like something is sniffing. No, it's just an insect crawling under the tent again. But what are those footsteps? I grip the handle of my eight-centimeter knife like gripping a ledge on a cliff. I imagine how now a bear will poke its nose into the top of my head through the thin canvas of the tent, how it will tear it with a heavy paw, I'll only manage to jump back to the opposite edge, but I'll be left alone with it. It will see me and stare with its mouth slightly open, breathing heavily. Then it will step toward me to sniff, press my leg down with its paw.

I lie motionless, not breathing, gripping the knife in my hand, trying to determine by sound where the bear is. The bicycle is to my left outside. It's walking around next to it and sniffing. No, this isn't an insect, I can clearly hear snorting. A mosquito is flying around my face inside the tent. For the first time I feel fear not as something fleeting, but constant. A feeling you can't do anything about, I can't run away, can't take any action. I just lie there and fear, animal, terrible fear is here, next to me. I can feel it like an object. Separate myself from it and examine it like an exhibit. I have time for this, because right now time is infinite. What am I afraid of? That a bear will eat me? Yes, but what exactly? That it will hurt or that I'll die? I examine my fear. If I die, then I won't care anymore. I don't want to die now? I've never thought about this, this isn't what I'm afraid of, it doesn't matter to me. Not that I want to die, but I've never once thought about when it would be better to do it. This question isn't relevant. So I'm afraid of pain? All my fear comes down to the fact that it will hurt? No, that's not it. Then what's the reason?

I heard barking. No, not quite barking, it's something between barking and howling and whimpering. This isn't a dog, but bears don't seem to make sounds like that either. I'm still afraid, each such sound makes me shudder, but now it's not just fear, it's fear and anger together. Ou-ou-ou, I hear it very close, but I don't care about it anymore. I fall asleep, letting the knife slip from my hand.