Nearly pitch black, in a forest.
Hissing, and shrieking,
the cracking of branches.
A sick laughter echoes around.
Heavy breathing, running for dear life.
The sounds behind, then ahead,
I turn to the side and trip.
A downed log, glasses fall off.
Shin is scraped, I don’t care.
Scrambling back to my feet,
shrieking closes in behind me.
My feet move faster still.
Not fast enough. Sudden stop.
Painful jerk at my leg.
Hit my head falling on a rock.
Dazed. Confused.
Searing hot pain,
through my back.
Sickening cackling,
vision tunneling inward.
Excruciating agony,
no, this can’t be…
Poetry