Pain

• Jitarah Church, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2014

Running. I sprint through the ever darkening forest, my feet skimming the damp earth, flicking up leaves and twigs. Sharp rocks begin stabbing into my feet as I near the edge of the forest. I need to stay in the trees for cover but I need to get out as it’s getting to dark. Arrows skim the nearby trees and fly past my face. The scent of decaying leaves and fresh dirt fills my lungs as I breathe deeply, pumping my legs faster through the tall, thick, trees. My t-shirt is filthy and covered in rips and tears. Blood trickles down from my collarbone as an arrow whiz’s past, opening up a long cut from the centre of my collarbone to my shoulder. I grit my teeth thinking of what it would be like if everything was normal again. If angels had never descended to earth. If their children, the Nephilim, hadn’t attempted to take over the world, with their angelic traits and evil morals. If I was still able to sit on the couch, watching my mother paint landscapes from faerie tales, while my brother cooked delicious treats all day.
Another arrow glides past my face with lightning speed, hitting a deer that was hidden behind a bush. Small rocks had now completely covered the ground, making my bare feet bleed. Blue sky was visible through the lessening trees and sunlight warmed my dirty skin. One moment I was bolting through the forest, the next I was falling. Gravity grabbed at my flailing body as wind rushed through my hair, past my face. A searing pain shot through my abdomen and through my body as I hit a jagged rock jutting out from the cliff face. I transfer all my pain into a scream so awful it could wake the dead. I could feel the warm blood coating my shirt front, as life was slowly being drained from me. Nearing the ground, tree branches caught at my face and legs, arms and stomach, whipping me.
Eventually I hit solid ground, agonizing pain tearing me apart as I land on several sharp rocks. Almost immediately, several dark figures approach dressed in blood red uniforms, guns and arrows pointed at me. I try to beg for them to let me go but only a grumble makes its way into my throat. A Nephilim soldier stands over me with his rifle aimed at my head. It feels like I’m bathing in blood as I lay twitching and grumbling on the rough earth. The soldier’s voice cuts through the pounding in my head.
“You disobeyed and now look what happened.” He gestured toward me with his hand. “I should kill you, but, I want to see suffer now.” He pulls a rope from his belt and wraps it around my broken wrists. Two men step forward and begin to drag me along. I couldn’t help it.
I scream out in pain.