A Scene In The Woods

March 17, 2010
By RyanHughes BRONZE, Gibsonia, Pennsylvania
RyanHughes BRONZE, Gibsonia, Pennsylvania
2 articles 0 photos 1 comment

He ran, ran, ran past seemingly endless numbers of trees and shrubs, an oak here and a birch there, leaping over the occasional branch in his path, leaves crackling like fire under each heavy stomp.
        He ran, ran, ran looking left and right and forward and back, for anything that might help him, hurt him, or just get in his way. But under the dark canopy he was practically blind, save the shine of faint silver moonlight that shone through the leaves here and there.
He ran, ran, ran but he didn't care about what kinds of trees he passed or what sounds the leaves made when he stepped on them. At this point, only one thing coursed through his mind body: And this is fear. 

He ran, ran, ran and he knew that he couldn't stop running. He looked hysterically from left to right, snapping his head from one direction to another, desperately looking for anything to help him, maybe a place to hide so that he may have several seconds to rest. But it didn't matter where he looked. His vision, blurred by his speed, revealed nothing but towering trees upon trees that faded into a gray fog in the distance. Even ahead he could see nothing of help, aside from the simple stretch of flat ground that allowed him to keep running and running and running. And so he kept running and running and running. 

At one point he looked to his side and the shadow figure of a human emerge from the fog. Eyes trying to focus a blurry picture on it, he couldn't see the enormous branch that lay at his feet ahead in his path. And before he knew what had happened he felt a sharp pain in his toe and his jaw was being buried into the dirt and mouth filled with leaves. He hastily spit out the leaves and pushed himself off the ground with all his might but his legs thrashed and slipped in a pool of mud, unable to place themselves on solid ground. After a few seconds he was able to set his feet right but as soon as he tried to continue running the force of over a hundred pounds slammed him in the back and his face crashed into another pile of leaves. He felt his arms be forced behind his back and a hand clamp an iron grip around his wrists. 

“Finally...” muttered the gruff voice of the mass on top of him.
He heard footsteps approach him by the crackle of leaves and he tried as hard as he could to force the mass off his back. But after a few seconds the footsteps were at his side and he felt something hard hit him in the back of the head.
And that's all he could remember.

The author's comments:
This is just a scene of a piece I wanted to write for National Novel Writing Month last year....and failed.....(don't tell anyone, though)

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