Maya zipped up her windbreaker, the crisp mountain air sending shivers down her spine. This solo camping trip was supposed to be a chance to disconnect and reconnect with nature. Now, as dusk painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, a different kind of chill ran down her spine – unease.
It had started subtly. An empty campsite, abandoned in a hurry. A stray backpack with its contents spilled, half-eaten granola bar and a crumpled map lying open. Then, the silence. No birdsong, no rustling leaves, just an eerie stillness that pressed in on her.
Setting up camp quickly, Maya forced down a gnawing anxiety. Maybe the other campers had just moved on. But as darkness fell, another sound shattered the silence – a muffled thump from deep within the woods. Curiosity warring with caution, Maya grabbed her flashlight.
The forest floor was a maze of tangled roots and fallen branches. The beam of her flashlight danced over damp earth and towering pines. The air grew thick with the smell of pine needles and something else, metallic and sharp. Then, she saw it – a glint of metal half-hidden beneath a fallen log. A glint that, upon closer inspection, resolved into a hunting knife, stained a dark red.
Panic surged through Maya. She stumbled back, the beam of her flashlight landing on a sight that turned her blood to ice. A figure lay sprawled on the ground, motionless. A man, his clothes ripped and bloodied.
Adrenaline kicked in. She had to get help. But how? Her phone had no signal here. Her only option was to get back to her campsite and pack up. Maybe somewhere down the mountain, she'd find a ranger station or another camper.
Just as she turned to flee, a twig snapped behind her. Maya froze. In the inky blackness, a pair of eyes gleamed, reflecting the faint moonlight. A voice, raspy and low, sent shivers down her spine.
"Lost, are we?"
The next 24 hours were a blur of adrenaline-fueled survival. Maya used her knowledge of wilderness survival to stay hidden, weaving through the undergrowth, using the darkness as her cloak. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, but fear was a stronger force.
Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig sent her heart hammering. She navigated by the stars, a memory from a childhood camping trip with her dad surfacing in her mind. As dawn approached, casting a pale light through the trees, she stumbled upon a hidden stream. Cupping her hands, she drank deeply, the cool water a momentary reprieve from the terror.
Then, she saw it. A thin plume of smoke rising in the distance.With renewed determination, Maya pushed on, her legs burning, her lungs screaming for air.
YOU ARE READING
Explorations from a Writing Class
Spirituellesshort stories that i came up with in my writing class
