Last Light

• Tayla Crowe, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2011

It was a dark, eerie night. The moon did not glow and the wind did not blow. It was cold outside and no one was there to protect me. I started running. Something was after me; I could feel it. Through the thick, overgrowth of trees, branches scratched my face and thorns cut my legs, but this did not stop me. I powered on, determined to make it out alive. I saw a bright light ahead of me. I sprinted, as fast as I could, it was getting closer; I was going to make it.

I was almost there when I tripped. I started to cry. Not because it hurt but because whatever was chasing, me was gaining. I thought back to the last thing I’d said. It was to my mum as I stormed out after a fight, “I hate you! I know exactly why dad left! You don’t deserve anyone!”
I had to keep going. If not for me, than for mum. I couldn’t let the last thing I said be so hurtful, upsetting and untruthful.

I got up, smashing my head into a branch thick as a light post, almost falling. But no, I had to make it out. I started again. My legs were burning, my heart almost ready to collapse, but it was the blood pouring from my cuts that really hurt. It represented all the pain, hurt and love that would be left behind if the last thing I’d said was as it was.

I was closer now, closer than I’d ever been before. I could feel the warmth of the sun shining in, highlighting my cuts and bruises. I had to push on, no matter what happened. I was almost there. I could see my house and my mum looking out the window. The creature was getting closer. It was almost at me now, and I knew it. I broke down into tears again, as I felt its claws reach out to me.

“I love you mum!” I screamed at the top of my lungs as a huge hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back. I didn’t try to resist; I knew it was too late. I was glad the last thing my mum would ever hear me say was I love you. But the last thing I saw; my mum, looking up out of her window in tears, an expression of shock and happiness at my words, whispering my name. She couldn’t see me, but I knew she’d heard me.

10 metres were all it would have taken, but that 10 metres resulted in the worst possible end. I closed my eyes watching my mum, my house, the light, disappear forever.