From The girl who liked Tom Gordon By Stephen King
(inserted part by yours truly)
“Hello?” she called toward the moonlight-and-bone faces of the trees. “Hello, is someone there?”
She held her breath in hopes that she‘d hear a reply, but for only a second. A second during which her heart started racing from the impending doom headed her way. It was without a doubt that the newly awakened set of nerves were right. There was something out there. Not someone.
It won’t be long now.
“Shut up!” she whispered as though to shout. But deep inside her, she knew it was the truth: It wouldn’t be long before it -whatever it was out there- kills her. Recalling the fear factor , she cried, “I’m not scared. Not scared at all.” But each and every one of those words shriveled like plastic exposed to heat and vanished like Houdini after his disappearing act.
She moved her right hand up and down her left arm where the mosquitoes attacked in attempt to calm the itching sensation crawling up her arm. While she scratched, patches of mud fell off, leaving her open for a feeding frenzy. But this didn’t bother her in the least. Scratching helped calm the anxiety -the feeling of being a prey in no man’s land. It didn’t help much though. Her anxiety seemed to be getting stronger exponentially since she acknowledged the existence of what was out there. What was lurking in the dark of night.
The cold voice came back with an even more cheerful tone than the last which made Trisha’s skin crawl.
Don’t get too comfortable.
A branch broke off in the distance. Could this be it? The end? Question upon question had risen within her worried self, scaring her to the point that her breathing became shorter and shorter until she halted breathing altogether. The sound resounded again and again like footsteps, but closer this time. A little too close for comfort. This surprised Trisha, making her give off a small squeal. She then thrusted the poncho into her mouth to diminish the sound.
That’s right! Let the fear take over you. There’s no escape from the thing that’s waiting to taste your sweet flesh.
“ No!” she mouthed. Tears pouring down her irritated face like little raindrops as it removed the thin layer of mud in its path.
The thing was getting closer. The special thing was going to kill her. Devour her.
She backed away from where she was standing then stumbled upon the hard earth. Still staring in the direction of where the sound came from, she backed away hastily, in a manner similar to doing the crab walk. The forest was, apparently, playing for the other team. Trisha found herself backed up against a tree that found itself in her path.
A sudden need to get away from where she were pushed her to get up and run as far as her legs would allow her. To her dismay, she tripped on a root that was dislodged from the soil. She fell to the floor with a dry thud. Even after having used her hands -which were now bleeding from the numerous scrapes and bruises- to prevent a hard landing, she still ended up with a broken nose. But that was the least of her worries. The forest was still. Too still.. The birds have left their nests. Leaving behind them echoes of screeching and feather trails. This was most disturbing.
But that wasn’t all. The atmosphere had changed. Radically. There was something about the air that gave her a feeling of inferiority in comparison to whatever was out there and a strange, yet acute, alarm.
“ My God. My God. I’ve got to remain calm. Remain calm.” Everything became silent. She could hear her own heartbeat accelerate at a frightening rate.
Trisha scrambled to her feet then continued to run.
Silly girl. You can’t escape your fate. All who found themselves here, in this forest, is doomed to an unpleasant end. Don’t you get it yet?
“Stop it!” she screamed. It was stronger than her now. Fearing that the creature may have found her, she ran and ran. As she past the clearing, she spotted many scratched trees and dead animals.
“ Oh my God!” she shrieked. “Tom. Tom. Where are you? What do I do?”
She tripped yet again. This time, she fell, injuring her leg: A very sharp rock had cut the muscles covering her tibia. And, as she landed, she ruptured her knee cap.
Her face to the floor, she tries to lift herself up.
Run all you want. The thing’s only a few seconds away. As is your death. I told you didn’t I?
Her own thoughts were against her.
Her whole body was shaking. She came to terms with her deepest fear: The creature was real and she wasn’t going to escape. At least not in her current condition. Had she not gotten injured, her chances of survival might have been a bit better. At least…
She could feel , not only a terrific pressure but also that somewhere in the distance, there was something staring at her. She could feel the bloodlust searing her skin. No doubt from the gaze of the creature lurking in the woods nearby.
She turned toward the moon-lit sky as she muttered a few words. Praying to the God she came to despise for his passiveness in this matter. Did he not care for her?
She sat back on a tree, with her eyes focused on the moon. Her heartbeat became even more hasty. It went from a halt, a jog, to a sprint. But there was no where to run. No means of doing so. So she crouched herself then laid herself down in the fetal position. Awaiting the approach of the reaper.
