The Mating Games

Chapter 30- A Beacon in the Night

"SUMMER!" Her voice interrupts my brain but my body won't stop; it's on autopilot and I'm only a passenger. My mother, she's calling me, urging me to stop; why won't I stop? I want to go to her but the lady is holding out her hand, she wants me as well; they're fighting over me. The figure shifts around, her feet clouded in darkness but her hand is persistent in pulling me closer. "STOP, DON'T TOUCH HER!" I can feel my mother getting closer. My hand still hovers in the air but my feet have rooted themselves into the soft dirt. Time has stopped, I can feel the stillness of it in the air around me, like a little bubble. More footsteps fill the air but I couldn't turn around even if I had the energy; who else is here?

The woman is getting restless, her hands becoming frantic as they reach out for me but she can't reach, not yet. Theo's calling me in the distance, I can hear him but he's so far away. Everything sounds so far away, not even the hoots of the owls can break through to my head. The woman takes a step forward, exposing her face to the moonlight and I see her. Her eyes are small and dark, a sharp narrow nose consumed her face and a fat bottom lip that jutted out. Her nose is scrunched up, eyes darting behind me before she grabbed my arm, pulling me with her and the world tilted on its axis. My body fell, like Alice in wonderland I was falling down the rabbit hole. I didn't know it could get any darker, or maybe it was the light being sucked from my eyes but my heart started to race. When I was a child the dark used to scare me, I thought I was over the mysteries of the dark but at that very moment, I was a child again.

/

I don't know where I am. Dim light surrounds me but the shadows cast my vision around like a roller-coaster. Shapes jump and dance around, tapping the floor with a sharp clip. The cold floor is numbing my skin until I can no longer bare the intensity and have to get up but my legs are stuck. Rope rubs at my exposed ankles and I want to help but my mind is whirling with noise. It's so loud I can't make it stop, why won't it stop? The pounding in my head is incessant and makes me want to chop my head off but I can't. Trees are swaying in the distance, I can hear them; the faint swish is my only comfort. Where am I?

The shadows are back again, taunting me with little nips at my arms; the numbness of my body doesn't compare to the ice daggers that are the shadows. How can they be so cold? The wind picks up and I can hear the trees shifting around on unsteady feet; they bend and buckle and branches snap and crackle all around me. Am I in the forest? The floor is damp and hard, like concrete but its covered in a film of moss. The air around me smells like a drain pipe; it's moist but stale and tickles at my nose in an uncomfortable way that makes me want to throw up whatever's in my stomach. My stomach, my baby; is my baby okay?

I pull myself up until I can sit and look around; it looks like a cellar that's been in one too many storms and has succumbed to the raging forces of Mother Nature. I'm leaning against a wall, with bare wood and nails protruding out and into my back but I can't feel them right now. It doesn't look like I've been taken too far, the outside sounds like the forest and that sparks a hope within me. If I'm close then Theo can come and find me and it will all be okay. I need to get out first, try and find my way back towards the pack. The rope rubs at my legs but I keep tugging on them, trying to loosen them. The knot starts to pull and I feel the harsh strands give a little, almost there; my legs spring free, splaying out in relief from the uncomfortable position. I use the wall to hobble onto my legs, slowly putting my weight on them but I can feel them start to buckle; exhaustion drags them down but I won't give up. My feet shuffle across the floor, dragging lost leaves with them while my hands skim the wall in search of anything helpful.

It isn't long before I find the stairs out of the room; the wooden boards creak and groan when I put my feet on them, screaming in protest. They feel soft and pliable like a sponge that has soaked up too much water but I don't have any other choice, this is my only way out. My legs are getting easier to walk on, making me smile in relief. The door frame comes into focus, a dark outline my only view in the dark cellar. There's no light under the door, no sound from outside. My only comfort is the soft hum of the trees and my thumping heart, hammering away in my chest. The door is closer, my hand reaches out and touches the sleek wood; soft fingers skim over, painting a picture of my path that my eyes can't see. The handle is cold, much colder than the rest of the door and I almost don't want to hold it. I can't explain the sense of foreboding gathering in my stomach but at that very moment, I had wished I never got up. Maybe I have a sixth sense, maybe I can see into the future; or maybe it was the heavy footsteps that erupted into the quiet of the night, the steps that stopped outside the cellar door and pulled it open.