They Chose Me (Draft 1)

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

                The cold wind bites my bare face and strokes my hair, pulling it back into a tangled mess, sending tingles and wisps of cold tumbling down my body. I jog out of the cover of my house and focus on my feet thudding the ground. Heel first, then toes, pick up, heel, toes, up, and back again and again until I hit the sparse trees signifying the entrance of the woods. I walk a little further into the mouth of the hollow woods. The rising moon casts an eerie light, conveying shadows of the trees and brush on the cool ground. Under the cover of trees and the night sky, I pull out the paper map. I follow the thin, black line with my eyes. I have to keep following the moon, but at the end, you have to take a sharp turn to the right and walk a little further until you come to the camp. It should be a few hours journey. I pull out the water bottle my dad packed and take a small sip. The macaroni is starting to make me cramp, nonetheless I bounce on my feet as I twist the plastic cap back on the bottle. I start to run again.

                The trees become more clustered as the terrain becomes more jagged. My pacing becomes more uneasy as I enter the thick of the woods. The moon is now in the center of the sky, so I’m assuming that at least two hours have already past. My legs are cramping, my hands are numb from the cold, and my lungs are struggling to inhale and exhale. I decide it’s time to stop for a break. I find a beech tree and slide down the trunk. I lay my legs out in front of me and open up the map again to double check my direction. I don’t dare close my eyes because I already feel the tiredness aching itself in me. I focus on organizing my bag. I fold my clothes and slip them soundlessly back into my back pack. Five more minutes, I tell myself.

                I clear my mind and focus on the sound the branches make when the wind pushes them over and over again. In the distance I hear an owl hoot. I can’t afford to think of my dad. Nor my mom or sister, neighbors that I barely knew but lost their lives because of me. I shake my head like that will help clear the memories. I dig my nails into the soft, earthy ground and strain all of my muscles until they get sore. I take a deep breath and stand up. I’m about to pick up my bags when there’s a change in the environment.

                I don’t have time to react as the figure explodes from the cover of the trees. I get shoved to the tree as the figure goes behind it, takes my hands and starts to tie them up. The moonlight only offers some illuminate to the scene, so I can’t see much of what’s going on. I try to break free and wiggle out of the grip, but it’s too strong. When my hands are finally secure around the tree, the figure emerges from behind. The government guard steps out in front of me. He pulls out a long knife as a shorter one falls to the ground. This could be my chance, I whisper in my mind. I just need to grab the fallen knife when the official isn’t looking. The official-guard person steps out into the moonlight and closer to me as he levels the knife with my neck. My mind is surprisingly calm as well as my legs which would normally be shaking. I stare into his eyes.

                “Hello Emma,” he says.

                “Hi?” I say with a questioning tone to it.

                “As you may recall, you had an accident before. We wouldn’t want you to escape so easily now would we?”

                Stupid, stupid me. I was so ignorant to think that I would be able to get away and find refuge at the rebellion camp.

                “Are you going to kill me, or are you just going to stand there with a knife to my neck to intimidate me?” I ask. He steps to the left and slowly starts to circle my premise, still holding on to the knife. I make an attempt to reach for the knife he dropped in front of me, but the wire digs into my wrist and the knife’s pressure increases, so I have to struggle to suppress a scream. I bite down too hard on my lip and cause blood to escape from there as well.