Him
He’s coming, his shoes thunder down the hallway. He’s getting closer and closer. I hope my hiding spot works, it’s a trashcan. I mean, who hides there? There’s a small slit in the trashcan probably from where He had been smashing into it with his sledge hammer. He wields it like a baton, effortlessly, precise, but his is three feet long and deadly. He limps around, dragging his hammer behind him, screeching like someone dragging their fingernails on a chalkboard. He slowly walks into the alley way, he starts to sniff at the air then stares at my hiding spot. My body instantly goes numb, his eyes are cold, dead, and fixated on the trash can. I decided to run, I threw the lid to the side going as fast as I can. I can hear him shuffling behind me, his huge body, covered in blood, he roared louder than a trains horn, he clearly wasn’t able to speak. His body made up for what he lacked in knowledge. I’m running through the streets, weaving in and out of vacant cars. Where is everyone? How long was I hiding? Millions of questions were running through my mind, it was like a sudoku puzzle without an answer. I’m heaving for breath, my head gets lighted and I eventually pass out, my body ragdolls to the floor. I can feel my head hit the pavement full force, but there’s too much adrenaline pumping through me to feel any pain. The last thing I heard before everything went black was the sound of the man stopping behind me and getting ready to swing.
I woke up on the pavement, my forehead was throbbing in pain where I had hit the ground. I took my hand to where I hit to feel the blood, but it wasn’t there, not even a bump, no mark. All the cars were off the streets too, and people were everywhere. What just happened? My legs had started to shake. I sunk down to my knees and cried from pain, begging for someone to call an ambulance, but nobody even acknowledged me. What’s going on? I have to get home, but where am I? I walk into the closest store, which was a target, and asked the clerk where I am. His name tag read “Alex.” He didn’t respond, he looked straight into my eyes, no, he looked through me, like I wasn’t even there. I realized that wasn’t working so I searched the place for a map, I picked it up and strolled out of the store. I looked at the map and found that I was in one town over from my house. I started to walk to my house and pondered the recent happenings. I got to my house and turned the corner to see only to find something horrible…
My house was completely destroyed. Fires were raging throughout my entire house. I started to sob again. I realized that I didn’t feel any heat from my house. I walked closer still felt nothing. I walked straight into the fire, feeling nothing. I heard booming throughout the room above me, I went to it and unlocked the door. He was there. He roared and threw himself into me. We crashed through the floor into the first floor. I could feel the pain shoot through me but I knew what it meant if I didn’t run. I pulled all my strength to push him off me. His gigantic body, still recuperating from the fall was like an elephant, his skin was a disgusting blue mixed with purple, felt like leather, and smelled like overcooked meat. I was sprinting out of the house everyone was gone again just me and him.
“ I just want to help!” He yelled. I knew it was a lie. I ran as far as I could but walls appeared all around me, slowly closing me in, closer and closer to him. Soon I was just a few feet away. “This won’t hurt very much,” He said. He then threw his hammer into me, knocking me out, I could feel my ribs burn in pain but the feeling of any cracking was absent. I laid lifeless on the cold grass out front of my burning house.
I woke up with a sudden panic. “ Come get your food you psycho,” a voice said through a slit in a reinforced solid steel door. I tried to use my arms to push myself up but looked down to find my arms confined in a straightjacket. Memories flushed into my head but one stood out, I was on death row, next up. This was my last meal. He was what I was running from, Death, he’s not just bones, he’s much worse. His hammer was his weapon, the needle that will take my life. Nobody even cares that I’m here. My parents didn’t even come to see me. How could they, they’re the reason I’m here.
By Matthew Good
