(Later)
Saturday, Same day, 6:50 a.m.


Limping with all the strength that I could muster I fled behind the tall weeds in my back yard while she followed me in a mad rush of pursuit. Swinging wildly at the air with her machete in such a way so that she would be ready to hack me to pieces when she got close enough. I ran and ran while hobbling and wincing at every small pressure I put onto my foot. My heart beated violently in my chest and the pitch-black damp dirt kept sticking me into the mud. I whine as tears stroll down my face because my ankle burned in raging painful protest, but I kept running and running until I'm sure I don't hear her footsteps behind me anymore, turning around I only see vacant air. She was gone and I had lost her in the weeds. But that didn't mean I had won, the game was far far from over, because she still had to touch me first. I slipped behind some tall weeds to hide and to catch my breath, while waiting and hoping she wouldn't find me.

And I guess this is where I left off at. The part where She had found me.  The part where I am now lying on cold earth in agony while pain courses through my body. Lying in soft shady muck. Staring at the dark sky into nothingness as my own blood and the damp dirt soaked through my jammies while Laura stood over me laughing. I feel something warm and burning rise in my throat and I cough and sputter as metallic auburn gore bubbles and leaks out of my mouth.
Slowly feeling myself dying I mutter the last words I could muster
"you won" I whisper feeling myself fading in and out, but not before I hear Laura say boastfully
"I know, I always win at this game",
And it was true.

Her Last Game  (hide and seek) (Watty's 2017)Where stories live. Discover now