Lone

• Chloe Shanahan, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2019

Her hands trembled violently, as fear washed over her. She can’t be caught. Not after all that has happened. She can’t give up. She inhaled slowly, trying to keep in the whimper that was threatening to escape her quivering lips. They were lingering right above her. She could see the shadow of a heavy boot, just centimetres above her. The slightest movements could give her away now.
She closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to see what happens next. Not wanting to see them lift up the loose floorboard to reveal her jumbled body. Not wanting to feel them lift her timid body up, and strike, thump and lash until death was upon her.
She waited for the squeak of the floorboard being uprooted, but it never came. The only sound that came were the grunted words of a man saying ‘clear’. She waited for the door to be slammed behind him before letting out a deep sigh of relief. She was safe, for now. She daren’t move yet though. They were likely still in the premises, and she couldn’t risk being discovered after that.
She lay there, trying to keep calm and reassure herself that she was okay, but she wasn't. She never would be. They would keep coming, keep looking, and they wouldn't stop until they knew she was dead. It was the scary, unfortunate reality of her life now. Now that she was the only human left on earth. She can't give up now though, or ever.