Hunted

 

I was recently going through my “life bag” – a box full of things I made, wrote or drew or things that simply remind me of my life – and I came across the following. So this post is compliments of 14 year old me.

 

Breathlessly I ran towards the distant hills,

My lungs gasping for want of air.

Loose stones slipped beneath me,

As I blundered across the unforgiving terrain.

I was desperate to escape my predator’s wrath,

Desperate to simply survive.

 

The pounding of my footsteps filled my delirious head,

This cut and run theory wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.

“Run,” Mum had said,

“If you ever think that he has found you, just run!”

Laughing, I had told her that he could never find me.

I had been painstakeningly covering my tracks,

I wouldn’t be found by him, not by anyone!

 

The wind whistled around me,

Lifting the branches of the ancient ghost gums.

On such a beautiful night I had danced with a boy,

A boy I had once trusted and felt safe with.

Now that boy hunted me as if playing a childish game.

Madly I zig-zagged across the field,

Guided by little moonlight filtering through the clouds.

The dark night threatened rain and the cool wind chilled me,

I ran to the hills, my only safe haven.

 

Suddenly I was falling,

Crashing to the ground with a heavy thump.

The dust round me stirred then settled once again,

Feeling nothing of my terror as the hunter neared.

Leaning forward I could see there was no escape,

This time I was well and truly caught.

I rested my head against the warm earth,

Waiting to receive the touch confirming my deepest fear.

I had failed,

I raised my head anticipating my punishment.

 

“Tag. You’re it now.”