Felled Hill

• Eve Smith, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2013

I could feel my heart frantically beating faster, so deeply determined to burst through and escape. With every stride I took the more it made my legs want to buckle and fall, fall to the shallow layers of the forest floor; where the weary and driftless were left behind. The endless pine trees surrounded my every movement, supressing me to only run forward. Was it forward, or had I become so entangled in the forests misleading fingers, that I was beyond disillusionment. My hearing had become numb, overpowered with every unsteady breath of air I drew and the heavy echo of my feet landing on the ground. My perfect, luscious curls that dangled beyond my waistline had become tangled with twigs and leaves. The knotted and messy strands of hair glided across my face, swamping my vision. My dress had become ripped and tattered from the wicked grasp of branches, enticing me further into its congested hold. I could not bring myself to look back, back into the swallowing darkness of daunting trees and silhouetted shadows, slowing trapping me into the heart of the forest. My feet, bare on the cold and motionless ground, broke twigs with every flurried step I took. Every uncontrollable beat of my heart bought weakness to my entire body; a temptation for me to give in. I could feel the weight of my entire body slowly drowning me, crawling over me like a spidery layer of suffocating mist. My lungs were so desperately searching for air, grasping for what seemed unreachable.
No matter how hard I tried to move further and further away, deep in the disjointed thoughts at the back of my mind, I knew that, I could never escape. My foot became captured by a strangling vine and I crumpled to the ground, surrendering. For moments I laid motionless amongst the bed of withered leaves, my heart still pounding. The ground was so cold against my cheek, as though it was seeping through. My hands had become outstretched. Slowly my fingertips began overturning and entwining themselves through the damp soil, feeling the sorrow within each touch. With much effort I raised my weak and tired body from the pitiful depth and looked upward, into the swirling trees above. The branches and leaves had become a distorted haze, mirroring one another; indecipherable. Perched high upon a branch was a black raven. It towered above me with its beady black eyes, mocking my misfortune with distasteful pleasure. I stumbled to my feet and returned to the flurried escape of confusion.
When would I stop running, running away from myself…
The trees suddenly ended and I found myself bursting into a vast emptiness, a cleared hill that was surrounded by a wall of willowing statues, swaying with delight. A spiteful breeze rippled over my entire body, leaving me senseless. I had come to a complete stop,confronted. My heart no longer violently kissed my chest, but had finally clawed through; escaped.