Voices

• Monique Pillay, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2018

My head was spinning nonstop. The ground kept on vibrating like a phone that wouldn’t stop. I couldn't think straight. Ahead of me, I could see a blurry image of a tunnel. I tried standing up, but I knew it was no use, my leg was broken. I searched the floor for anything that I could use as a walking stick. Behind me, there was a big oak tree. ‘What if I break a piece of a branch off the tree?’ I silently thought. I started to crawl on the floor. Eventually, I made it to the tree. I used the tree for support and stood up. My leg was killing me, but I had a job to do, so I pushed the pain aside. I grabbed the nearest branch and tried to ply it off the tree. But it wouldn’t budge. I tried again and with a little bit of luck, it came off.
It was long enough to reach the ground so with that, I made my way slowly to the tunnel. The tunnel was narrow. But it was just wide enough for my body to squeeze through. Oh no. I thought. My “walking stick” can’t fit through the entrance. I needed to leave it. The stick and I parted ways and I was heading into the darkness to find freedom, hopefully.
The tunnel was pitch black so I grabbed my flashlight out of my backpack I stole from home and shone it at the wall. The walls were tattooed with sketches of warriors and fighters, probably from some ancient war, but something felt off. Thoughts started to swarm my head. Why would there be a narrow tunnel in the middle of nowhere? Why were the walls full of artworks from ancient wars? I finally reached the end of the tunnel.
When I finally came out of my daze of the walls, I shone my flashlight at the end of the tunnel. I looked down at my leg and saw a bone bobbing up and down, I still had a good ten feet ahead of me. I grabbed the walls for support and started walking again.
When I finally reached the end, I felt like an eternity had passed, but in reality, it was like a minute. When I looked at the end of the tunnel and saw a makeshift door. So I did the most logical thing out there. I placed my hand on the handle but before I get the chance to open it, voices swarmed my head. They kept whispering the same thing over and over again. You killed us, now we kill you, you killed us, now we kill you. With that, I knew what I had to do. I opened the door and slammed it shut, trying my best to block out the noise.
Fortunately, it stopped. But what was I so scared of, I was free? “You killed them, so I kill you.” That’s why. I shone my flashlight in front of me. But no light was coming out. Great, what else could go wrong? “Who are you,” that didn’t sound like my voice, but it came out of my mouth. “Your worst nightmare.” That is such as stereotypical thing to say. “What do you want with me?” I screamed out. “What do you think?” To kill me. “SH...” But before I could finish my thought, my leg pain intensified by a million. I screamed and got slammed into the nearest wall. I looked behind but saw nothing. “St…stop, please.” I pleaded, feeling tears swelling in my eyes. I didn’t get a reply for a while, but when I did, I didn’t like it.
“I’ll stop when you’re dead.”