Miscalculation

Ring-a-round the rosie

Thorns tear at my legs as I race through the woods. I only look down enough to ensure I don’t trip on the treacherous roots. In the darkness, the trees loom over me like overgrown crows, branches clawing at me. Something rustles somewhere in the darkness to my left. The moonlight filters weakly down to the ground, casting shadows that seem to leap and follow in a deadly pursuit. Adrenaline sharpens my senses; fear muddles them. Was that the sound of someone getting closer? The shape of a predator on the path ahead? Or my own deceptive mind, drawing my focus away from the actual threat to linger on imagined perils? I want to cry, to give up and in to the destruction at hand but my unfaithful body remains in motion, in pursuit of survival, instinctually falling back on millennia of surviving the things that go bump in the night. Faster, faster, faster. Forwards I go.

Pocket full of posies

I can see her ahead, in the darkness, outlined vaguely by the light of the waning moon. She is moving recklessly fast, tearing through the forest with complete abandon. Every now and then she stumbles, never quite falling to the ground but coming close. Each time she renews her flight slightly faster, more panicked than before. My feet hit the floor inaudibly, as if they have struck a bargain with the earth; silence, in exchange for blood. I see her falter once more. I wonder how scared she is. Probably terrified. I smile.

Ashes

My legs are still pumping but they are burning, like my lungs, my entire body screaming in pain. Desperate to stop, but unable to. I don’t know how much longer my adrenaline can carry me but I doubt it will last indefinitely. For a brief moment, I consider stopping, just for a second, to get my bearings. It wouldn’t take long. Just one second. Except, I’m scared that if I stop, I won’t start again. Besides, I think I know where I am. If I’m right, the dam isn’t much farther. It should be up ahead, a little to the left. I hope I’m right. I better be right. My life depends on it.

Ashes

I’m gaining on her now. It’s getting easier; she is slowing, no doubt growing tired. Exhausted. I wonder if she has reached the point of acceptance yet. It makes it simpler when they do. For them, too. It’s very kind of nature, to give prey an adaptation that makes the inevitable more bearable. She seems not to have given in quite yet, however. She is heading towards the dam, ahead and slightly to the right. I wonder what she thinks this will accomplish.

We all

Something shifts, and I swear I can practically smell him behind me. No sound, just a feeling, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. The scent of death on the wind. Closer, closer, closer. I have to time this just right. The dam, slightly to the left. I have one shot.

Fall

She knows I’m near. I can tell. I know her well, after all. I’m mere feet behind her now. I wish she would look back and see me. Its not nearly as fun when they don’t look. The moonlight is growing stronger as we near the edge of the forest, the dam close by, slightly to the right. If she looked back now, she would see me so very clearly. Inches away now.

Down.

I am going full speed. We both are. So, there’s no time for either of us to slow down as we hit the dam dead on and go flying over the edge and into the bottomless pit below.