Violet Eyes

• Chloe Buhagiar, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2021

It had felt like days, weeks, of wandering around in the forest but my instincts told me it had only been a few hours. My heart was beating madly against my ribcage, my throat sore and my lungs weighing me down like bags of hot sand. My eyes burned from the sands of time wafting through the thick, humid air. Naturally I was wandering confused; lost and losing any hope of making it out alive. But I had to put the foreboding feeling aside; I had to get out of here.
In the dead of darkness, with a soft yet audible rustle, a jolt of movement shot forward, clouded by the mist which hung low to the uneven ground. I ignored the black dots which swarmed my vision and focused on the movement. It had disappeared but left a trail of footprints behind, human footprints. I immediately stumbled after them, in desperation for a roof over my head, warmer clothes on my back, food in front of me and an explanation on where I am and how I got here. My head clouded with the vision of waking up, scarred and bruised, with no memory and sense of direction, and now, finally an end to the misery.
Unsure of whether it was my legs, I slipped, skidding down a sloped hill, the tough, unforgiving terrain clawed at my filthy skin, causing me to shriek in pain. As I tumbled through the dark, I pressed my fingers into the moist dirt, feeling my legs drop beneath me. I looked down in horror.
Suddenly, where the ground had been, an immense cliff revealed itself. It towered below me, and after a few seconds I felt my lower half longing to drop but my mind told me otherwise. I looked up to find several men; an army of them, clad in black biker suits, war paint and armour and armed with several weapons. I could tell by their hesitant moves, that they were waiting for orders from someone. I assumed the shadowy figure emerging from the crowds was their leader.
“Now now boys, go easy on her.” The mysterious man spoke, his voice rich and filled with cold humour. The rest backed off, allowing the man to study me. He was dressed like the others; his eyes glittered a deep purple. He stepped closer, kneeling to my height, so we were face to face. He smiled, sending a shiver down my spine.
“W-w-who are y-you?” I asked, my voice trembling, “W-who am I?”
He smirked coldly, before standing and resting a boot on my knuckles, which were white from the pressure.
“I know exactly who you are, darlin’. But you won’t have to worry about my name for much longer.”
He pressed his foot down, causing me to lose my grip on the ledge. I screamed and shrieked, but there was nothing I could do now except to watch his glowing violet eyes as I plunged to my death.
And then I woke up.