The Men and The Pond

If a tree falls and no one is around, does it make a sound?

He knew this place as well as she did, if not better. That wasn't enough because they were catching up. He was going as fast as his short legs would carry him and it's still not enough.

He knew this place better than she did but it didn't matter because he was running aimlessly. That's how you get killed, by not being careful. She said that to him once. So did their mom, though it was more along the lines of; look before you leap.

But he didn't look, he didn't care to look. Not when he was going to die.

They were gaining on him. Both of them should be freezing because they're not dressed for the weather. He is wearing three heavy coats and he's not even close to warm.

That's what's slowing him down. You don't need to be comfortable to live.

He takes his coats off, one by one, letting them get caught in the wind. But they're still gaining on him.

They want him.

They'd stop at nothing to get him.

They were chasing him down like a wolf hunting its prey.

He was their prey.

If he'd looked, just for a second, maybe the odds would've been on his side.

Fear is a pointless emotion for man to have. It makes him dumb. It makes him forget to think.

Another thing she'd said to him.

Don't be dumb.

Maybe this was his fault. Her way of trialing him for being so stupid.

Fear has made him stupid.

And she was punishing him for it.

He doesn't want to die.

It starts to rain and he can hear a loud beating noise. It's his heart. It's going at a rate that should be considered impossible.

He's so scared.

He's not thinking now. He's running off instincts.

Because he's fearing for his life.

He finds himself in a place oh so familiar. The pond abead of him is a beautiful white, most of the blue water frozen underneath all of the ice.

Except there was no water, taking its place instead was an empty void of darkness. It was similar to a rug covering up a hole in the floor.

This place was so good at exaggerating.

It’s still raining, and he’s freezing cold and now he’s suddenly regretting discarding his coats.

He wasn’t thinking.

Idiot.

Dumb, mindless idiot.

He turns around, and they’ve cornered him. What’s happening feels like that one time, and it’s not emotional nostalgia he’s feeling.

This is the wrong time to think about the incident.

Because now this will be no incident.

This was all planned, premeditated, purposefully done.

The first time was no incident either, she had every intent on killing- or at the very least- injuring him.

He puts his hands up defensively, breathing heavier with each step they take.

“Please,” he begs “Please don’t do this,” with every word he gets quieter and quieter, taking a step backward as she steps forward.

He backs away until he can’t anymore, and he wonders what she thinks of him now. A human being who’s fearing for his life? Or an animal who’s fearing for its life?

An animal.

A dumb animal.

That’s what he is to her, a dumb animal backing away from the knife of a butcher.

She walks closer to him, slowly, tauntingly, until they’re eye to eye. He’s breathing heavily, still trying to catch his breath(he won’t have one in a few seconds), and her breathing is slow, calm like she didn’t just chase him down for hours. Or was it minutes? He couldn’t tell anymore.

It all happened to quickly. Her arms extend and the next thing he knows there’s no ground underneath him, he’s going down, down, down and they’re above him. He's reaching his arms out like that’s going to save him. There’s a loud, ear-piercing scream and he realizes it’s him when his throat starts to hurt. He fell into the icy void of nothingness and now he is nothing. Her wish had come true.

If a person dies and no one is around, is he really dead?