My Last Hope

Dirt compressed underneath my feet, leaving a footprint in its wake. Sticks snapped, agitating what shouldn’t be alerted to my existence. I bolted through the army of trees, unsure of orientation.

Not that it mattered, so long as distance remained greater than zero. The adrenaline was all I had left, but even that depleted quickly. Soon I’d be out of breath, and out of options.

Their bone-chilling shrieks let me know just how close they really were. But I couldn’t look back to confirm it, not that I desired to from the fear of what I might see. One false step would be my death.

They didn’t run out of energy. Not like me. I ran on fear. They ran on hunger, a hunger that could never be satisfied.

My solace came when I arrived at the clearing. One lone beaten down building. My last hope.

With the unexpended energy left, I dashed to the building, battering the back door open with startling ease. I didn’t have time to examine my surroundings, opting for the nearest closet.

Footsteps rumbled up to the building. Rapid breathing multiplied, growing louder. Shadows danced around the room from the sunset penetrating the windows. The stench repulsive, that of death. Moans groaned on, with the occasional shriek that nearly had me reciprocate the noise.

I held my breath as footsteps stomped closer, a wheezing more pronounced. Clasping my hands over my mouth, I shut my eyes, praying the door remained shut. Edging back slightly into the coat rack, I kept still, trying my best to blend in with the clothing inside.

The door swung open with one flying off its hinges as it crashed back on the floor. Light flooded in at an angle, barely illuminating me. The rotting smell permeated the area, and I struggled to hold back gagging.

It stepped a foot in, sniffing around, and I restrained from screaming. An outcry from elsewhere echoed around. Frozen still, I observed my pursuers become hypnotized by the sound. They shrieked in near perfect unison, sprinting off to follow the scream.

Breath gradually left my mouth, careful to not make it too audible. My chance to flee arrived, and I took it. I don’t know who that person was that called attention to themselves, but I thank them for being my last hope.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this short story, consider checking out some of my other work. Also, feel free to connect with me on Twitter! I enjoy engaging with other writers.Major changes in our lives are often long voyages, not long weekends, a gradual and evolutionary process that takes time, support, and patience. In addictions, the change to a sober lifestyle may take months or years and often times becomes the work of a lifetime. It is rarely, if ever, a sudden epiphany or the result of one life-changing event. But the reality is that family members, therapists, friends and supporters who provide patience and support are often rewarded with the ultimate victory of sobriety.

Portia Nelson captures the essence of this journey in a poem entitled “There’s A Hole In My Sidewalk: Autobiography In Five Short Chapters.” I put this one on the wall and now read it every time I get impatient with slow and often draining process of people changing their lives and behaviors, even when not changing threatens everything they know and love.Major changes in our lives are often long voyages, not long weekends, a gradual and evolutionary process that takes time, support, and patience. In addictions, the change to a sober lifestyle may take months or years and often times becomes the work of a lifetime. It is rarely, if ever, a sudden epiphany or the result of one life-changing event. But the reality is that family members, therapists, friends and supporters who provide patience and support are often rewarded with the ultimate victory of sobriety.

Portia Nelson captures the essence of this journey in a poem entitled “There’s A Hole In My Sidewalk: Autobiography In Five Short Chapters.” I put this one on the wall and now read it every time I get impatient with slow and often draining process of people changing their lives and behaviors, even when not changing threatens everything they know and love.