Seeing Aaron

• Chloe Beer, Grade 11, Genesis Christian College
• Short Story
• 2015

Excellence Award in the 'Read Write Repeat 2015' competition

I curl into a ball, desperate to stop trembling. Piercing fear overwhelms me. Wrenching me from sanity and into a never-ending cavity of darkness. Aaron’s velvety soft hands seem to reach out from the image in my brain and stab my heart with regret. My baby boy, Aaron, would have loved me unconditionally. I gave birth to him six months ago and once my parents learnt of my pregnancy, disgust and unforgiving hatred filled their eyes. Suffering through the nine months of my pregnancy, I lived and breathed for my baby inside of me. Yet when the day came that beautiful green-eyed Aaron was born, my parents mercilessly put him up for adoption and ordered me to leave.
Sitting now in a dreary corner of the train station, icy fingers of fear brush down my spine. Five drunken thugs, who look forebodingly familiar, stumble onto the platform. A flashback comes to mind of a night with Sally and Lexi, friends I had met on the streets. They went ahead of me to meet some guys at a park. When I arrived, they were gone. My first response was to fume with rage, yet as I heard distant blood-curdling screams, immense terror overwhelmed me. Quivering, I hastened to put distance between the torturous men and me.
Gradually I arise from my crouched position, jam my feet into my tattered shoes and slip into an alleyway. Immediately freezing as warm breath trails down my back. I hurriedly turn, but am shoved to the ground. The thugs saw me. Rough hands grip my arms, and wrench me up. The hungriest, most lust-filled eyes I’ve ever seen, pierce their way into my soul. Feigning sympathy he says, “You almost got away.” I gag at his repulsive smell as he turns his head to his friends and says with a vile smirk, “She’s fresh. We got lucky tonight.”
While his head is turned, I kick him soundly in the groin. His clutch loosens so I hotfoot it. Bellowing, “Get her!” their hunting begins. As the lactic acid builds, I focus on my goal of shelter. Bounding over boxes and toppling bins supplies me with enough time to reach the warehouse with the hidden hole. The men’s malevolent screams echo as I fly around two more corners, dive under the warehouse and restrain my breathing- only releasing it once the thugs run past.
I have escaped this time, and as I inch further back I feel safer. Yes, it is a distorted sense of security, but I am safer in here than with those men. Shuddering at the nightmares of what they would have done to me, I now know that I am going to have to be more cautious. Closing my eyes, salty droplets squeeze out from beneath my eyelids, and onto my already damp cheeks. Drifting off to sleep, Aaron’s wispy locks of hair brushing softly against my cheek become my focus. This is what keeps me going- the possibility of seeing Aaron again.