You Can Run But You Can't Hide

• Joseph Obsioma, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2015

I cleaned up the bloody mess I made, hoping nobody would suspect a thing. But my ambitious and brutal job wasn’t done yet. I went back home to wash off. I looked up on the wall in my own home which had writing in what seemed to be dry blood. It read ‘You’re not done yet’. As a criminal, there was no reward, only punishment if the job wasn’t done.
My target was an old woman who lived in a decrepit home. According to my boss, no one had ever survived in that house and many people wondered why no one had ever come out after entering during the night. I knew it was all a bunch of baloney. I arrived at the deteriorated home. The bins were just taken back from my analysis of the situation. I quietly entered the house and straight away I felt the dust falling on to my head. Suddenly to my surprise, the creaking door behind me slammed.
I tried to open it but I knew it was no use. I had to get the job done quickly. As I searched through the gloomy house which had no working lights, I could hear strange noises coming up from upstairs. As I reached the stairs, a cold wind passed and it was more than strange but more superstitious. But as I knew it, this house was just an ordinary old house. I walked up the stairs and just a few metres from me was an oddly very dark figure of what seemed to be a small boy. Suddenly the boy walked away. I was eagerly hesitant to follow him.
I looked down to see the height of where I was and realised that the stairs had uplifted. But as these strange things happened I felt even more bewildered and the anxiety was building up. I had never believed in superstitious things and I knew it wasn’t the time. A large hallway was now adjacent to me. At the end of the hall way a woman in what seemed to be a wedding gown appeared. Then it finally hit me. It was time to run. I ran behind me back to the stairs. But to my horror, it had disappeared. The woman walked towards me and there was blood streaming from her dress.
The woman touched my forehead and her fingers were starting to pierce through. She spoke “stop, stop!”
Suddenly my eyes opened and I was at the front of the house, and I realised I was dreaming. I knew it was a sign, I knew it was time to leave even though I would be punished. I started walking away hesitantly, suddenly a black car appeared in front with glaring eyes almost striking my consciousness, and I looked back at the top window, a woman stared back. I realised there was no where to run.