2 weeks in Hell - 3

Demi ran up the stairs sobbing, hoping that no one could hear her. She had always felt so weak and vulnerable when people saw her cry. She thought it was wretched how people could cry in public. But she just couldn’t hold it in. When she closed the door behind her she didn’t hold back and all the tears flooded out. Though it was an impulse to cry after such a horrific embarrassment it didn’t help to ease the pain. Actually it worsened it. Her eyes burned like fire and her throat ached, eager to scream and to swear. She watched her makeup flow down her face with the tears like thick black ooze. She rubbed her face hard, trying to wipe away the gunk from her face, but her skin just reddened far more from the irritation.
In the bathroom she soaked her face with a wet cloth, trying to calm herself down. Her face was an uneven red and her eyes were puffy and blood shot. She looked up into the mirror. She felt utterly pathetic. Her face was clean of makeup, and the redness had softened, but she felt so ugly. She would breathe a deep breath and reapply the makeup. She would brush back her hair from her face into a neat ponytail. And she would go back down stairs and pretend that nothing had ever happened, that she wasn’t just called worthless. She would pretend that they were all friends, and that no body hated her. She would go on and ignore all the stares she got from Travis’ family and all the rude remarks saying how he could do better. No, she was going to play good.
But she didn’t want to.
She looked at herself in the mirror, deep into her eyes and she began believing what they said. She was worthless and pathetic. She was just another fling for Travis. It ate at her, deep deep down until in burrowed itself into her brain.
“I am nothing.” She said to her reflection. But no, she realised then that she was more than that.
“I am Anastasia.” She said after a moment’s pause.


(The 2 weeks in hell shorts are not in order for anyone who is confused. They are just random exerts from the story.)

2 weeks in Hell - pt2

He had the knife to her throat in seconds. Desperation and determination flowed through his eyes and she knew him well enough to know that he couldn’t kill her, especially since he still loved her. But there was the force he used when pressing the sharp blade against her skin and the fierceness in his voice that scared her a bit; an intimidating note that screamed he would do it. And he would – he was dead serious. But there was a voice in Demi’s head that kept telling her that somewhere in Travis, she was the only person that he thought about, that over all he would protect her and her only. A selfish thought, yes, but she couldn’t help it. She loved him more than anything and she would push him to the limit and further until he bent into her fairytale character. But it didn’t look to be going that way just yet.
She stopped fighting back and let him handcuff her to the broken glass covered window pane. It was fairly weak, but he was sure that it was all he needed to get away, and for the police to find her. She didn’t look scared and she didn’t look defeated, though she felt that way. She didn’t want him to realize that he had won just yet.
“Is this seriously all you’ve got? You think this is going to hold me back from finishing them off?” She was starting to tire, but she wasn’t about to let her tough façade wear off just yet. Travis didn’t answer her questions, just stared her dead in the eye with a deathly look that made Demi’s heart break the slightest bit.
Her smile faded to a scold as he left the room. She was running out of ideas.
Travis sprinted down the stairs and out the door. Molly was still unconscious in the front seat and he exhaled knowing that she was at least safe from Demi. He could feel Demi’s eyes on his back, a feeling he knew quite well now. He turned and looked up at the window. It was swinging back and forth in the strong, stormy wind, but Demi was no where to be seen. The window panel seemed to be unbroken, but the handcuffs were also gone.
“How the hell?” But he could still feel her watching him. She was somewhere – somewhere close, but he didn’t have time to find her. He didn’t want to find her. There was nothing separating him from the car, but he still ran; sprinting as if his life depended on it.
No sooner after starting the car engine smoothly, did the screen crack right in front of him, sending waves of scraggly, thin arms reaching out to the end. The glass then shattered into thousands of pieces and sprayed onto them. A large smooth rock lay on the floor at his feet. Through the shattered glass he tried to see where it had come from.

Demi stood in a doorway, second floor of the house shaking and cradling her left arm in the other. She did what most people would consider crazy, but she couldn't let her love escape her just yet. To get out of the handcuffs she did the only thing she knew would work. As Travis was running down the stairs to the car Demi pushed down on her left thumb as hard as she could. Tears began to flood to her eyes as she realize the pain and severity of what she was trying to do. But she didn’t stop. In one swift movement she fell back against the couch below the window, crushing her hands under her body weight. Her right hand was still pushing hard on her left thumb and she heard a solid crack which sent shivers through her body before waves of excruciating pain. She carefully slipped the handcuff off her broken hand and released herself from the hold of the window. She brought her hand to her face and looked upon the mutilated thumb. The small joint at the bottom of her thumb which usually jutted outwards now faced in and she could no longer move the thumb at all! Her breathing became rapid and she felt dizzy as shock set in. She could barely see straight, but she could hear the engine outside start. Without looking, she grabbed the closest solid object she could reach and flung it out the window with her right hand, much against the distress her body was under. She heard the screen smash and knew she had done something right.

Two weeks in Hell - Intro

The train flew fast through the land, leaving no time for the passengers to gaze outside at the coast. Demi didn’t mind though. She was consumed in the novel in her hands. The small, compact book was battered and old, but she couldn’t take her eyes away from the griping story of murder and scandal. She was completely gone from the world around her and trapped within the walls of the book, holding her breath as the character ran for her life, seeking refuge from a blood thirsty man with an axe.
“Your eyes look like they’re about to pop out of your head.” Laughed Travis, they only voice that could break Demi away from the story. He handed her a cup of coffee in a paper cup. She looked up at her boyfriend and noticed how good he looked with the bright orange glow of the sunset behind him. His jet black hair glowed a fiery red and his smile looked brighter than ever.
“I just got a text from my publisher.” She told him after she stole a quick kiss from him.
“Yeah? What did she say?” Demi had been writing for as long as she could remember, and finally she been able to finish a story that she could call a novel, but the next process was excruciatingly slow for her, and she realised that her life’s work might be for nothing. Much because of her love of gripping murder stories, her finished novel went something along the lines of a murder, but she was feeling doubts from many that had read it so far; all except for Travis who sang praise for it to everyone he talk to. He was her cheer squad, and at the moment her only support for how her chosen career was going. As a freshly graduated high school student, she decided to take a year of before university to take a break to work on the novel, despite what her friends and family suggested. She had high hopes, and she wanted nothing more than to just get this novel published.
“She asked me why the character killed the family.” Demi said, slightly disappointed that she didn’t get the text she was wishing for that would have went on about how fantastic the story was.
“That’s easy!” exclaimed Travis, stretching an arm over Demi’s seat. “Because she hated them. Because they were such arseholes to her. I mean, that’d be enough to make me snap.”
“You wouldn’t be saying that when you get caught for murdering a whole family!” laughed Demi.
“Well, it’d be the truth, whether or not I admit it…”
Travis gulped down his scalding hot coffee as easily as he would water, while Demi went over the text a few more times, waiting for hers to cool. Each time she read that words, it ate away at her, making her feel as though publishing this book was some impossible task that could never be cracked by someone as simple and plain as her. She wouldn’t know where to start to modify the story to make it better; to make her publisher absolutely love it as much as Travis did. Or at least half as much.
“Give me that!” said Travis, taking the phone away from her and erasing the message after about the fifth time she had read it. She sighed, realising that the message wasn’t the only thing that was bugging her at the time.
“Do you think they’ll like me?” Demi asked, leaning against Travis to look out the window at the images of the ocean rushing past. She was talking about his family. Demi and Travis had been dating for almost a year now, and Travis thought that Easter break was the perfect time for her to meet them, as they’d all be there for a little while to celebrate. Demi came from a completely anti-religious family, one that had members spread all out across the country, so she either spent holidays like these with friends in similar situations or alone. And that’s what made her especially nervous to meet Travis’s family, as she’s never been to anything resembling a big family gathering in her life.
“Trust me, they’ll love you.” He said, wrapping his arm around her. But there was something in his voice that she just didn’t believe. She looked at him suspiciously. “Ok, they might attack you a bit with the whole interrogation deal, but honestly, what family doesn’t do that when their son brings home his girlfriend.” Demi’s cheeks flushed and she smiled when he called her his girlfriend. She’d never get used to that title. “Besides, when they see you like I do, they will take you in as though you’ve been part of the family for years. I’ve seen it with Valerie and Brian when she brought him home for the first time. If you can get through their first line of attack, it’ll be all yours.” Demi sighed a breath of relief, trusting in Travis’s words.
The water view rushed past in a blur, and Demi wished she could stop and just slow down. She imagined lounging on the beach, just her and Travis. They were heading up the coast, away from the city, to where Travis’s grandparents owned a huge house close to the ocean where the whole family stayed for holidays and events like this. Demi could see some romantic getaway; a little hide out where they could sneak away from the harsh realities of real life. But knowing her luck, it wouldn’t be as grand as she would want it, and with as many family members as Travis had described, she wondered how any of the family members ever got a moments peace.
“Don’t think about it too much. Just be yourself, OK?” she nodded in agreement at his flawless logic, and hoped that being herself was all she needed to impress these people.
Demi sipped her coffee, which was now cool, letting the bitter taste sit on her tongue. Often in times like these, when she was granted a moment to think, a brutal and gruesome scene that occupied the novels that she was so fascinated in would accumulate within her mind; but now all she could think of was how this week could end up as her own personal murder, one not done with a knife or a gun, or even an axe as it is often depicted in more conventional murder stories, but more one executed with her complete and utter embarrassment and rejection by her boyfriend’s family. She wasn’t looking forward to this week if even her mind was going to torture her with the horrors of reality.

Forgive and Forget

The feeling burned within me. It was sickening and overwhelming. I wanted to scream and yell at anyone in my reach, to hit or kick some of the rage out of me. But I knew this feeling would never go away, no matter how hard I tried to get over it. I poured myself a drink – straight whisky of course – with shaking hands, just barely getting the drink into the glass. The drink soothed me only slightly. The thick alcohol burned down my throat, taking away from the heart ache and pooled in my head, disfiguring my mind and distracted me from my cruel imagination that wanted to torment me until I pulled each hair from my head – which I wasn’t far away from doing.
I sunk to the ground, wrapping my arms around my long legs. I still wore the dress from last night and I regretted wearing such a tight and uncomfortable dress when it wasn’t worth it anyway. I shook and wept, no doubt ruining my make up. I might have sat in that state for hours, sinking in my own depression that was as thick as mud. The only time I broke away from staring blankly at the floor was to pour myself another drink until there wasn’t a drop left. I couldn’t believe that I was crying over a boy of all things. I wanted to walk right up to him and scream into his smug little face that he wasn’t worth the effort, and that he’s an immature little boy with the fat body of an old man and that he was going to die alone. But when I realized that I could barely motivate myself to stand up I knew that confronting the jerk wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
I didn’t believe in love until I met this selfish boy – his love was like honey; beautiful and golden and can make anything, even the darkest moments taste delicious and feel fantastic. It might be hard to make and collect, but it’s worth it, and it never runs out. But I don’t want his love; I’m incapable in fact. I thought he loved me, this boy I was crying over now. I loved him – well I thought I did.
A cold and hard though struck me hard in the back of my head, and I grasped it, realizing that this would be the only chance I got, and this would be the only way to set my life straight. I pulled my mobile from my coat pocket and started typing. I was going to fix this. I can love again.
Forgive and forget? I texted him. Terribly cold way to talk, but if I spoke I would have screamed.

You would forgive me? I thought you hated me?

Love overpowers hate – you said that. Come over?

You won’t try to kill me? haha

Never xx

People use that phrase too loosely I thought as I sifted through my kitchen looking for my carving knife…

In the city that never sleeps

Lights flickered down on the thousands of people below, and cast a full spectrum of colour on the dancers, distorting the eyes of all who looked up, making reality and fantasy a blur; a colourful cloud. Muscles tensed and relaxed, moved and stretched along with the heavy thump of the music, programmed by the sound god who seemed so little, so far up above the crowds in his booth. He controlled the energy of the house and his followers were never disappointed. He looked over his subjects, a smile playing on his face at his creation, that he can make thousands of people move in unison by his hand.
Drinks mixed, cash exchanged, silent words made, but sound meshed with the music. Red lips and gleaming teeth make their way to the bar. She doesn’t try to speak, she knows words are useless when deafening sounds triumph the room. Fluro nails tapped on the counter top table as she waited for a drink. Folds of fabric clung to her sides, and her dark hair glued down to her face in clumps by layers of water and sweat. She couldn’t help but move side to side along with the rhythmic sounds. She played with the many beaded necklaces wrapped around her neck while she closed her eyes, letting her mind wander with the ever changing music. Her exhaustion was taking over her senses, and the tiny voice inside her head, telling her to go to sleep was starting to reach the surface. But she wouldn’t let the insane nose of her everlasting sensibility to take control. This night wasn’t over yet, and she was going to make it last a life time. She downed the sweet bright pink drink and let the alcohol pick up her energy. The buzz traveled through her veins like a shot of adrenalin and she was back on the dance floor, lost in the thousands jumping in the air, trying to reach the unreachable. Her head flicked back and fourth, long hair following its movements, regardless of the heavy weight of sweat. Glitter fell from the heavens and the beautiful fantasy world settled on the woman as her reality. She had lost sense of time, and though the sound god had done his job for the night, her night was far from over.
Another few drinks down, all different colours to match her nails. Old faces lost in the hundreds of bodies moving in all directions, new faces met and lost as quickly as they came. Night rolled on and the dawn was making its approach. The world was a haze for the woman now, but she didn’t want to let it go. The fantasy was making its escape, and real life would be forced.
Sunlight burned through her eye lids and the heat of the summer was too heavy for comfort. Mascara caked eyelashes fluttered open, and sleepily, blood red eyes glanced across the hotel room; she had some how found a way home. Memories were scarce, but good times were never without a mild case of amnesia. Lost thoughts would be replaced with photos and another all nighter was just around the corner. Just another night the city that never sleeps.

The Games

Maria's heart thrashed against her rib cage looking for some kind of escape.
"This is just a game" she whispered to herself. "Just a game, they can't hurt us." she slowly navigated through the maze, the faint glow from her skin being her only source of light. Her heart slowed as it registered the soothing words. Her hands were out stretched in front of her as she followed her instincts towards what she hoped was the end of the maze. She was never good at finding her way through mazes and as the unnerving feeling of someone behind her crawled through her skin, the panic swam through her body like a virus. She spun around, but couldn't see anyone behind her, not that she'd be able to see anyone, because beyond the two metre radius of light she had, the darkness swamped around her, thick like oil. She could feel the darkness somehow closing in on her, and she didn't look back as she ran off in one direction. The maze tweisted and turned and she didn't take the time to consider where she was going, she just let her fear lead her, and corner her to a dead end. She hadn't seen a different path for a while, and she didn't want to turn back, not when she could feel it keeping up behind her, not far away.
She leant back on the wall she was trapped behind and peered back into the darkness, willing her eyes to see further than they could. She sat there for quite some time, her chest heaving, unsuccessfully trying to bring the right amount of air into her body. She had lost her sense of time, but she knew she had been there for too long. Once again a sense of security sank into her, but she knew it wouldn’t be too long before the game challenged it.
“Hello?” she called, desperate for a human response. But there was only an eerie silence and the weak sound of her grasping breath.
“Hel-“she called again, but was cut off by a horrible high scream coming from her far right. It was high and familiar, too much like Jade’s sing-song voice. The noise made Maria jump up right, and her heart rate sky rocket, drumming on her insides, threatening to jump from her mouth.
“Jade!” she screamed, hoping she could hear her friend. She clawed at the walls, hoping that she could possibly reach the top and get away. But her short structure made escape futile. She sank back to the floor, wrapped her arms around her knees and wept. She felt so alone in the murky, black world that had swallowed her whole, but her loneliness turned to full panic when she could feel the mysterious presents creep back.
“Who’s there?” she whispered into the blackness. As always, she was met with no answer. The light poured silently and evenly from her skin, but for a moment it flickered. Not like a candle, but like a shadow had come across it. A grey, sickly shadow that lingered above her legs like long skinny fingers. Her fear held her down like lead shoes and gloves. The shadows came from the darkness, and they extended out in a never ending shadow, as far as Maria could see. They touched her skin, tracing delicately down her shin bone, but they were colder than ice, even with their fragile touch, and slimy. The touch jolted her out of her fear, and she wanted nothing more that to get away from whatever it was. She tried to jump to her feet, but the shadows wrapped around her legs and dragged her down again. A face with no apparent body appeared from the darkness. Though it was more like a mask than a face. It was the face of a woman. Her eyes were closed and she held no expression on her face. She looked like she was sleeping. But she had absolutely no colour in her face. Her skin was chalk white, and her lips and eyes matched that.
“Were you going to leave me?” she shadows asked her. The voice sounded like it belonged to the woman’s face, but she did not move her lips. Maria opened her mouth to answer, but no words were formed, only a choking noise. Her mind was more registered with escape than to answer the monster in front of her. Two hands wrapped around her leg as the face disappeared, and other than the slimy feeling crawling up her leg, you wouldn’t know of the invisible being; a creature that was four times the size of Maria, not that she would be able to tell, that the heat vision cameras could pick up, looming over Maria.

The viewers, sitting in their homes for one moment sat in complete silence, watching the screen in anticipation, as they watched the giant red blob that stood tall, gazing over the smaller red dot that was Maria.
"They wouldn't let her die...would they?" asked one particular viewer, to her mother, who couldn't draw her eyes from the small flickering screen to her child, who was left with silence.

Back in the games room, in the complete darkness, maria watched as the shadows moved to consume her, and her tears melted with the sweat that fell from her brow.
From the clouds grew long, dark, sharp figures, like yellowing, cracked bone. They had materialized from the darkness and broke deep into maria's skin before she could release the breath of her scream. Instead of fear, her scream was laced with pain as the teeth of the monster bit deeper into her bone, pulling at the loose, bloody flesh. Her screamed echoed throughout the entire room, one that was too large for the player to contemplate. Every other player shuddered with some form of fear or anxiety, wondering what they might have to fear.

The gruesome act happening to the poor girl was broad casted all over the world, and while many looked away or covered the eyes of their young ones, they would always come back to the television, waiting for the next episode...

Transformation

I transition into my new self. I can never get used to the unsightly process that is my transformation, but one has to live with what they have. If I didn't I might have been dead decades ago. Though as time passes I wonder if living in the shadows is any different from death? I must protect myself from the humans, unless I dare wish for a long, painful death, stretched out to possibly years. I guess I can understand their curiosity, without understanding their method. They do not know so much about the world they live in; they live in a world kept in a bubble away from the vast power and strength that comes from my world. I wish I could say sometimes I feel sorry for the human race, but I've watched them, and I can assure you, I feel nothing more that hatred for the despicable beings who have forced my people into hiding.
My spine snaps awkwardly to the left, and my whole body, for one moment freezes, unable to move, before a tidal wave of pain shoots through me, ripping each of my nerves to shreds as it passes from muscle to muscle. Unsuccessfully clawing the air for something to steady me, I fall slowly to the ground. My surroundings are now only a blur, a room of indescribable shapes and colours. Sadly this situation was not one I was new to. Any human in the same situation would be left paralyzed, head to toe. Transformation is a desired and one very difficult skill, and any loss of concentration could result in mistakes; and that distraction then stood in the doorway of the darkened room, her small glowing face swallowed by the stacks of books that lined the walls. She couldn't take her eyes off me, and as partially human, her eyes conveyed similar emotions; curiosity, fear, empathy, sorrow. Her bright blue eyes portrayed so many different thoughts, but it was those same blue eyes that made me forget that one second. Her already large eyes widened further when she heard the agonising snap, but her face defined perfect calmness, a small sign that distinguished her from the humans.
"Could you help me?" I asked, assessing the large break in the bone, protruding slightly through the skin, with my hand. She looked at me carefully, stepping over me, and disregarding my pain and discomfort, she placed her knee on my back, facing against the new shape of the bone and roughly pulled back my shoulders, snapping the bone back into place. A sudden warmth swept over me, and the transformation continued until there wasn't a single mark on my back, and the only evidence was the blood on the back of my shirt. I sighed, frustrated.
"My favorite shirt."
"You'll get over it." she muttered. I noticed it then, but I didn't know how I could have missed it before. She helped me up, though I didn't need the help, and then quickly let go of my arm and took a few steps back. She felt incredibly intimidated by my kind; though being partially one of us, she was still partially human. My previous life lay in a heap on the floor, discarded like clothing. The young girl glanced at it, at first with curiosity and jealousy and then in disgust.
"How often do you transform?" she asked me, not meeting my eyes. I towered over her with my new, strong build, but I still didn't know what I looked like.
"Every decade or so." She was curious and jealous, knowing that she was going to die some day. I wonder how much she would change if only she knew that so many of my kind were made and not born that way. She knew so little...

The Ballerina

She danced along the length of the mirror, long black hair flowing down her back, flicking wildly with the movement of her graceful body. A delicate beauty, a flower that only blossomed when the sun rose, and every eye would be upon her. But the fragile soul was trapped forever in the frame of reflective glass, never to stop dancing. Her toes ached and everything around her was spinning. Her world was out of control, but she let the addictiveness of movement take away her pain and senses, to live in a illusion of bliss. The curse pulsed through her veins, but she was too tired to stop it consuming her. Blood dripped down from her feet when the skin couldn't take the pressure, soaking her shoes a bright red. She leaped and she soared higher than she had ever done in her previous life and she felt alive ever time she landed perfectly, and she landed ever time. But she could feel the energy draining, and as the days rolled on, one after the other tumbling on, she could see her end was near. She spun wildly, never letting her heels touch the floor, frame to frame of her childhood full length mirror, performing for the little girl who watched silently with large eyes. The ballerina called out to the child, but the little dark haired child couldn't hear her. As the day came, the ballerina cried tears of blood, the pain becoming far more servre than unbearable. Her bloody foot prints were all that were left in the reflection, the ballerina never to be seen again by the little girl.

(ok this post was really short i know, and it was getting kind of dark, so i wrapped it up fast)

Hide

You could hear the patrols coming a mile away. They were loud, like the monsters they were, charging through the land, crushing everything in their path. Some people stood on the streets, cheering them on; little children holding flags and banners, having the time of their lives. They had no idea what was really happening. Other people stood at doors and windows, watching them in disgust. They wish they could do something, but wanted their lives more than they wanted the peace. At least they could stand on the streets. And others, like myself, ran and hid. For my people, we were hunted, like animals; heads to hang over the mantle. I didn't know what they did with us when caught, but I had heard some pretty gruesome stories, and I didn't really want to know what was true.
I didn't have much time to get away, they were looking for someone. Maybe there were others like me in the small town. But if they were here, I'd never meet them, because the patrols wouldn't leave unless they found someone. It was me or them, if there was anyone else.
I ran from the window as a black, sleek car and two guard motorbike pulled up in front of the building, five stories below. There was only one place in the small apartment where I could hide. Up in the attic there was some loose boards under a bookcase, which led to a small crawl space between the attic floor and the apartment ceiling. Rebecca helped me and pushed the bookcase back to seal me in. In wriggled into the small space until I thought I was deep enough in. It was a very tight space. I had electrical wires jamming into my back everywhere I moved, and I couldn't breathe without inhaling a handful of dust. I held my hand an inch from my face, but I couldn't see it. I tried to search for any light through the floor boards, but it was as if the light had been swallowed up by the darkness. And now I too felt like the light, sitting in the belly of the darkness. The hideout suddenly felt so tiny, so small, closing in on me. Claustrophobia took over my senses and the added fear of the patrol below made me feel sick.
Suddenly there was a loud crash below and the walls shook. I assumed they had knocked down the door, not bothering to wait for Rebecca to answer it. But it didn't matter, they could do what ever they wanted and no one would stand in the way. I could hear them talking, but they were too far to hear. But Rebecca's squeal came through to me crystal clear. The horrible noise soaked through all the way to my bones and suddenly everything became so real. I had been putting my friend, who had given me so much, in danger all this time. Just by being here, in her house; Rebecca could be killed for that! I heard the attic door - a trap door in the ceiling open. I couldn't move, I was so scared, I could barely breathe. There was some light that trickled through. It was almost blinding since my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. But I didn't dare look away, in case that slight movement of my head created enough noise to alert the patrol. Five men entered the attic. I could hear their heavy footsteps thud across the old wooden floor. I didn't know if that was all of them, or if there were more waiting down stairs. At first the only ends I saw were to get caught or hide and get away, but my cruel imagination added a third scenario; what if they took Rebecca? Would they hurt her? Could they kill one of their own, even if by protecting me she was a traitor to them? But I forced those images out of my mind for now, I couldn't let them take control. My body attempted a series of spastic convolutions; a claustrophobic symptom I had experienced only once before when my brother locked my in the pig pen, but the the men, who almost stepped right above me scared me more than the space closing in on me. I could see one of them through the cracks in the floor boards. He was so close! I put my hand over my mouth, risking the chance of sound, afraid that he could hear me breathe.
The man spoke to another soldier in their language but I recognised the word for 'kill'. He pointed off to his left, but where he was looking was out of my view. My heart smashed around in my chest wildly, like it wanted to be found and was knocking on the door. Surely they could hear it. The man above took a step forward, stepping on a board that curved downwards, like a lot of the boards in the attic that were old and couldn't hold the pressure like they used to. Only difference was that it pressed down on my stomach, severely restricting my breathing. I knew he felt the difference in the floor because he paused, standing completely still, like stone. I knew he was just about to rip the floor boards apart, the others aiming their guns down at me. I wondered that if I gave myself up now they wouldn't hurt Rebecca. But I couldn't move. The shock of it held me down like three inch nails through my limbs. And thank God I didn't move, because a second later the soldier moved, heading back to the door. He called to the others, and they all left with them. I realised I hadn't been breathing that whole time they were there, and suddenly all the life and relief flood back to me. I didn't know what had happened, but I hoped that they had given up the search. It had felt like they had been there for a whole day searching, standing inches away from me, but it probably want more than two hours or so. I didn't come out until Rebecca came and got me ten minutes later. I hadn't been so relieved to see anyone in my life. Though I could see the nasty bruise the men left on the side of her face beginning to appear. We came down stairs, and I could see how much damage they had really done. The large bookcase had been tipped over, and a large crack began to grow from the side. Books and other possessions of Rebecca's were thrown around the room. And in the light I could see how bad they had really hurt Rebecca.
"No really, I'm alright. This can all be fixed in a couple of days." If I had never come here for help, she'd be living a safe life, but I had been too greedy, only thinking of myself. I wandered over to the living area, picking up the scattered objects, when I came across an object I hoped I'd never come close to, ever in my life. It was one of the soldier's gun. I knew what was going to happen now, but it was too late to do anything about it, because it was already happening. Suddenly an unarmed solider entered the room, obviously come back to retrieve his gun. He was half way through his explanation when he saw me. I didn't need to understand his language to know that I left him speechless. That's what so many girls want, don't they? to leave a boy speechless. But I didn't think this is what anyone would have wanted. I could hear the words forming in his mind. He was going to yell down to the patrol below. But I was too quick for him. I swung back towards him, gun in hand, aimed and shot without thinking twice. It was the first thing I thought of doing, and I didn't think again until it was over, and the deed was done. Once again I had though only of me, thinking through greed. For my only life and safety, I had just killed someone. I had just killed someones son, someones friend, possibly someones father. Although, the morals and ethics of murder would have to wait, because what was next in line was the patrol that were running up the stairs to the apartment.

Run.

As I was sprinting to the back meadows I realised something was different. I'd run this way every day; my record was one minute thirty seven. But I was no longer running with those words skimming across my brain. "This is it." I'd tell myself. "This is the grand finals, the race to end all races. All you have to do is win, then you'll never have to run again." All false promises. I can never stop running, whether I want it to or not. Running was in my blood, and every day I cursed my blood just for that. But the hope of leaving the competitive world behind got me to run faster, like a burst of energy, even if it was just running from the house to the back meadows. But today I didn't think of that hope, I didn't try to push myself, I didn't think of anything at all, just how good it felt to move without demand. I had never noticed how the wind brushed past my face and through my hair. I had never noticed how it felt sometime to run so fast it was like i was flying. I just ran - for what reason, I don't know. To escape maybe? Nevertheless I found myself running faster than I ever have before. I was in the meadows before I knew it. Out from the dense bush land that sealed the sky from the ground, bursting through the canopy and into the powerful warmth of the sunset. I checked my watch, briefly entering my competitive frame of thought. One minute twenty six! I couldn't believe how quickly I made it there.
I could hear my father screaming from the house. My name echoed through the farm. His voice could have echoed through the whole town. But I couldn't stop now. I really was running my last race - the race that my whole career, my whole life depended on. I kept running, reaching the boarder of the farm. I wasn't going to stop, but I didn't know where I was going to go. But far away from here was the destination.