out, crashing into the plant. I take a sharp inhale of breath as the thorns from the plant pierce my skin. I resist the urge to scream as I feel the thorns cut into me. They are all over my legs, arms, and torso.
I take a few deep breaths, clinging for dear life as I carefully make my way down the trestle. The pain’s awful as each thorn cuts through my leg or my arm. I grit through the pain, knowing that I have to do this in order to survive.
I manage to get down and finally look at myself. My dress is torn, and I’m covered in blood from the thorny bush … but I’m alive. I’m alive and possibly free.
In my euphoria, I look around, trying to take in my surroundings. About a hundred yards away from the house is a forest full of trees. Will I be able to make it there without being seen? I really don’t know. I have come this far, so I have to keep going. If Tony catches me now, there’s no way of knowing what he will do.
With no time to lose, I make a run for it. The moment I start, I hear Tony shouting my name from the house. With my adrenaline spiking, it spurs me on further as my heart starts drumming in my ears. There’s no turning back.
The screams of my name are getting louder, and I realize he’s looking for me outside the house. It won’t be long before he spots me.
I don’t want to, but I turn around to see if I can catch a glimpse of him. I sigh with relief. I’m halfway there, and Tony can’t be seen as yet. If I can just get in the trees without being spotted, he won’t know where I am. I’m not sure what’s out there, but it has to be a much better prospect than Tony any day.
I get to the entrance of the trees when a loud voice shouts, “Ana!” making me jump out of my skin. Turning around, I see Tony standing by the house, gun in hand. Despite being quite far away, I can tell his face is contorted in anger. He lets off a shot, and I instinctively duck for cover. There’s no time to waste. If he catches me, he’ll kill me. That much I know for certain.
As Tony starts sprinting towards me, I will my jelly legs to move. I clamber deep in to the trees and trip on a branch, which twists my ankle. A frustrated growl leaves my lips. This can’t be happening to me. He’s going to catch up with me, and I know that when he does, this life will end for me.
By pure adrenaline, I force myself up, and I limp on. I’m trying to gain as much speed as I can so I can hide somewhere. In the distance, about some twenty yards, I see a little wooden shack. Maybe someone’s in there.
I pick up the pace, gritting my teeth together and willing myself to push through the throbbing pain in my ankle. My hands, arms, and legs are still bleeding from the cuts made by the thorns on the side of his house.
As I get closer and closer to the little wooden chalet, I notice all is quiet. Too quiet for my liking. I don’t know where Tony is, and I’m not sure if that’s a comforting thought or not.
With that in mind, I hide behind the tree and very carefully look around me. I still can’t see him. I hear nothing but the breeze through the trees and the occasional crow squawking way above my head. How sinister this setting seems now. Everything’s set up for a perfect murder scene. A girl, running through the woods while being chased by a psychopathic serial killer. Could this be anymore surreal?
With Tony nowhere in sight, I quickly run as fast as I can to the next tree and push my back up against it. With each tree I throw myself onto, the pain in my ankle’s practically willing me to scream out.
With a small grunt, I finally manage to get to the house. I’m panting, and the urge to be sick is taking over more violently. I knock as silently on the door as possible.
Please, let someone be in!
I wait a couple of seconds, but there’s nothing. I try the handle, and the door pushes forward. My shoulders sag automatically. I see dust