It is unusually damp tonight. The air is hazy, and masks the shadows moving with the trees. Beneath the muck and leaves that are sprawled across the ground, the area is alive with predators and prey. The feeling of anxiety collides with the felling of the cool breeze. It is so quiet, and the fall of the sun has just begun. My breath dances in the air and beads of perpiration roll off the tip of my tongue. I can feel them closing in as they gather more speed closer to my location. I slap my arm in pain, feeling the sharp ping of a dart. The world spins around me and I watch it disappear into the moonlight.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.