My Doom

Just a short I thought of as I wandered home one night. Kinda freaked myself out at the time.

My Doom.

 

The path was long and dark. The quiet of the night broken only by the sound of my boots crunching on the rocks beneath them as I walked. I was calm but aware, these are not the times to be walking alone at night. The moon light pierced through the trees above like spears. There were blind spots but I strolled on through them. My breath was steady, my hands still. My thoughts trawled through the memories of the day, it had been a good one, and I felt elated.

 

I had walked this path enough for my feet to avoid the numerous potholes and puddles without much thought. My eyes scanned the path ahead and the field to my right, the fence to my left was not a threat. Movement flickered on the corners of my eyes, but I knew this was just the light playing tricks. I was completely alone.

 

A flash of light behind my caused fear to rise quickly. I twitched, startled. My heart began to speed. I turned my head and saw a figure standing in the middle of the path I had just walked moments ago. I thought that the figure seemed to be watching me, but it was too dark and I was too far away to be sure.

 

Another flash on the path in front caused me to jump again. My head whipped around. Another figure was in the middle of the path ahead. It seemed identical to the first in the dark. My heart beat impossibly fast and it deafened me. My breath was sharp and shallow. Fear made it difficult to control myself.

 

I looked at the path behind where the first figure was standing. It was gone. My head whipped around to the path in front. The second figure was had likewise vanished. I told myself that I was imagining things. But I knew it was not true. I pressed myself against the fence. My eyes darted all around scrutinising every shadow, every perceived shape in the area. The fear had not subsided but it was joined by a fellow emotion. An unwarranted feeling of dread.

 

I knew I had not truly been threatened, but could feel deaths icy touch lingering. Was it paranoia? Or was it a rare glimpse of things to come. I was not sure. I forced myself away from the comfort of the fence. I forced my feet to continue my march, albeit slower and more cautious. my eyes wide with terror, my breath had steadied but my heart was still racing. I could taste the saltiness of the cold sweat that poured down my face and onto my lips.

 

I was aware of someone, or something, watching me. I forced myself to walk faster, I was not far from the supposed safety of streetlights. I told myself that I would never come this way after dark again. My pace quickened still. I was almost at a run when a figure flickered through the trees on my right. I stopped suddenly. My eyes hovered where amongst the trees. I could not see anyone. But I could sense something. Something unreal.

 

The feeling of dread grew, crushing down on my heart. My once happy thoughts had been torn apart by the fear. My mind now creating possible outcomes of the present. Each as horrifying as the last. The fear threatened to make me irrational. I gave in and broke into a sprint.

 

In my irrationality, my feet lost their memory of the path and I tripped on a root that had been jutting out as long as I could remember. I went down hard. My hands flew out in front to break my fall. I felt the skin on them tear. I felt my knees slam into the stones, my jeans barely softening the blow. I felt my warm blood explode out of the new found gaps in my skin as if it wanted nothing more then to be free of me.

 

I slid to a halt amongst the stones and dirt, pain searing my knees and hands. I looked up. There was a figure ahead, once again, it was too far to see clearly. I sensed the other behind me, before I looked. It was likewise distant.

 

I pushed myself to my feet and when I looked up again the figures where gone. I knew they were playing games with me, but I did not know why. I stumbled down the path. I spied the small bridge that signalled that I was near help. I quickened my pace again. The fear and the dread stifled me. It filled me like a balloon till I felt like I was going to burst.

 

I hobbled across the short bridge and looked around. I thought I could see the figures flitting around me in vast, dark, field. I was choking on the fear. I was drowning in the dread. I felt truly hopeless.

 

I stumbled upon my new path, it was little more then a dirt track. I realised I was crying. I knew could sense my approaching fate, I was determined to avoid it. I moved as fast as I could down the path. The figures still danced around me. I wanted to yell out, to scream. But could not bring myself to do it. I could feel death stalking me. It destroyed my senses.

 

I followed the path till it reached the end of a street. The stately houses rose up on either side creating a prison as effective as any wall. I began to hobble in the middle of the road. My new found hope shattered like glass when I saw the figure at the end of the street. I knew I could not turn around now. The path behind me led to my doom. I had no choice but to continue on.

 

When my head could not decide on an action my feet did. I began a slow stride. each step bringing me closer to my fate. A flicker of movement caused me to jump. A cat ran out from under a car and away. I looked ahead. The figure was gone. I turned. It stood where the dirt path met the asphalt. I walked to the end of the street and followed another till I reached my street. Here the road ran alongside the field. I could see a figure watching me. It's unseen eyes boring into me.

 

I turned into my dead-end street. My pace quickened. I was almost there. When had I reached my house at the end of the street I looked at where I had come from. Towards the field, and the paths that ran through it. I could see the figures just outside the pool of light pouring from the streetlight on the edge of the field.

 

I ran to my door. I fumbled with my keys. The door swung open and I slid inside. I was home. But I knew I would never be safe. Not even in my own home. The figures would always be there. I would never be able to chase them from my head.

Author's Note

This was hastily changed from third person to first just before I uploaded it. I think that the first-person makes it more in depth, more involving.

I use shorter sort of disjointed sentences to show the panic and the fear in the character. I like the lack of description of the characters as it gets the reader to fill in the blanks, so that their imagination fills them in. It makes it more scary as people put their own fears in

Reviews

[EGabriellS]

Wow. I really like this. I don't think there is anyone who hasn't had that "feeling" of being watched or followed while walking somewhere late at night. I know I have. You captured really well the feeling of fear and desperation we put in our own heads when we are all alone in the dark.