I Shouldn't Be Alive

• Amy Hodgson, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2013

I thought I was going to die.

No doubt about it.

It was plain and simple, printed neatly in black and white on the wall of my brain. This was the end.

So I ran.

Well, that wasn't the first thing I did. The actual first thing I did was scream a bad word so loudly that it seemed to bounce off the surrounding trees and echo in the air for a moment, and then I ran.

It all seemed to happen in a matter of seconds. I was walking around the property with my dog Norman, chasing the galas that congregate on the flat grass and sneaking up on the rabbits around their hidey-holes. My bare shoulders began to burn as I sat beside the dam to watch Norman swimming, trying to catch the leaves floating by.

Suddenly, I saw it. The brown scaly back, the beady black eyes. I saw the blades of grass bend beneath its slimy belly and a small rock rolled out from underneath it. I should’ve known better than to just stand there in bewilderment. I should’ve paid more attention to the warnings of my parents about the dangers of summer. You’re supposed to be prepared for this sort of encounter when you live in the bush. It’s not true what they say, the snakes aren't more scared of you than you are of them. This one wasn't scared of me at all.

I watched it slither, for longer than I should have. “Maybe it has legs”, I thought to myself, “don’t panic, it’s just a lizard”. As I stared, the scaly thing grew more and more aware of my presence. Suddenly it was facing me, staring straight at Norman and me, and it was rearing up.

My legs moved on their own, my heart beating in my throat. I felt the force of each step resonate in my kneecaps and my lungs burnt with the rush of cold air. I could hear my own footsteps and my own wheezy breath, and it was then that I realised that I was running alone.

Norman. Where’s my dog?

The dirt seemed to spray up from under my feet as I skidded around in the opposite direction. Norman hadn't followed like I thought he would. Was he with the snake? Was he alright?
Sprinting back between the trees, dodging rocks and running through the flocks of galas gathering peacefully on the flat land, every part of my body throbbed with my rushing blood. It was then I saw him, his furry grey body barely visible through the leaves of the bushes. I tip-toed towards him, breathing heavily with each cautious step. There he was, pawing at the snake.

My hands began to shake, my mouth was dry, even my eyeballs seemed to throb with the shock of what was happening before my very eyes.

I tried to grab him, but the snake was too close. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to think clearly, but my body wouldn't move and my mind wouldn't work. I couldn't just let this happen, but I couldn't stop it either.

I saw the snake rear, ready to lunge. Without a thought in my head, only my own heartbeat, my hands moved on their own as I ripped off my shoe and threw it between my dog and the snake.

I stood beside Norman as the snake slithered away under a rock. We had escaped death, but only just.

With one shoe, tears in my eyes and sweat on my palms, Norman and I hobbled home with our eyes fixed on the yellowing grass