Dark Distortion

• Zoe O'Sullivan, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2009

The tall dark trees towered over the drive, creating midnight shadows in the dark misty night that enveloped me as I ran. My screams echoed off the darkness, piercing the unnaturally silenced forest. A hole in the road caught my foot. I hit the ground hard, scraping my hands. The clear snap of bone made my yelp hysterically in pain – my screams of terror forgotten in the dark – tears fogged my vision running ruthlessly down my face.
The break was only a toe or two, so I figured I could stand. Gingerly I got up from the gravel path, being very careful not to put too much pressure on my injured foot. This process took a few slow minutes. I didn’t realise that I was not alone.
Suddenly, a long rasping breath came from the thicket of trees on my left and my heart skipped a beat. Though it was not an unfriendly sound it brought forth cruel, disturbing images - memories. The ones I had been running from; the ones I was screaming at; the ones I need to scream at.
My breathing quickened and my uneven pulse began pounding in my ears. The minutes passed and my heartbeat returned to near normal. My breathing slowed and I burst into fits of giggles. I was hysterical.
A menacing growl sounded close on my heels, made my brain momentarily freeze, and the ground beneath me fell away. I lost my head for less than a second, but it was enough. I was fully awake. I had to be. Yet the dark was too light. The silence too loud. And I was alone again.
Moonlight broke through the thick cloud in thick streams, revealing a small sheltered bench, created by a fallen tree leaning against its sister. I quickly crept across the forest undergrowth and perched upon the edge of the tree. I wanted to rest, but I was afraid to close my eyes.
It was fear that brought me to this merciless place. For the first time in my life I was truly afraid, terrified, and of losing more than my life and sanity. As I sat, the battle of wits, will, power and determination to live, escalated into a full scale internal war.
Only a few metres from my hiding place, towards the forest, a terrified scream filled the air. But it was not mine. There was no fear in me; I didn’t even flinch at the unexpected sound. But the chainsaw roaring to life stopped my heart dead. The screams got closer and the chainsaw louder. Still, I was rooted to the tree.
I smiled when the chainsaw spluttered as it hit the lesser object. The screams died almost instantly, along with their maker. It was wrong, but all I could do.
My smile still didn’t fade when the cold, blood splattered face of the murderer found mine. The old bloodied chainsaw hanging freely at his side was insignificant.
I had not met my end.