It was nearly nine o’ clock. Elliot had, naturally, ignored Thaddeus’ offer. It was getting dark now, as he walked down the narrow street between tall houses. Elliot was always wary after his uncle made an offer. He always had the feeling he would follow him home. Sooner or later, he thought, his uncle’s offer would be ‘give me the inheritance and I’ll give you your life.’ A slate slipped from the roof above him and shattered on the tarmac. Elliot looked up, straining his eyes against the gathering gloom. A street-light directly above him stopped him seeing clearly, but he could swear something, someone, had moved. It’s just a pigeon, he chided himself. These roofs have needed repairing for ages. He left the roads and started on the footpath to his parents’, his, house. It sat on the common, its dark bulk squatting like some unseen creature ready to spring. The burglar alarm was a stroke of genius. In his father’s study was a painted silhouette of a person at the window. When the motion detectors sensed someone, the study light would flick on, creating the illusion of someone standing at the window. It was a great deterrent. The study light was on. Elliot could see if even from his distance. Someone had been here before him. He turned quickly. No-one there. He was just scaring himself. A fox or a badger, or even a cat, had set it off. He fought to control his breathing and turned back to the house. For a split second, a shape darted across the light. Elliot ducked. In the darkness, with his black coat on, crouching amongst the heather by the side of the footpath, no-one would be able to he him. At least, that was what he hoped. Every sound felt louder, as it always does when one is trying to be silent. His heart was pounding in his chest and ears like a drum. Try as he might, he could not control his breathing. He crept forwards, aiming straight for the house, avoiding the path. There was nothing he could use out here. Endless heath, not even a tree where he could find a big stick. The light abruptly went out. Elliot was alone on the common, with nothing to guide him. And someone was behind him. As soon as the thought occurred, he whirled around. Nobody there. He straightened, chiding himself for being stupid. Who could possibly want to follow him? He headed purposefully towards the house.
Lin stepped out of the taxi. Her hi-tops touched the concrete pavement and she struck out of the marketplace bustle towards the suburbs. The traffic was confettied over the road, a sprawling landscape of brick and steel. A shadow flickered in her peripheral vision. She turned surreptitiously to look, and the same shadow moved behind a stall selling grapefruit. She turned, pretending she hadn’t noticed. Her mind raced with her heart. She was being paranoid. It was nothing; just an out of place shadow in the midst of a crowd. She shivered. The shadow darted out from the stall and inched closer. Lin increased her pace, taking a shortcut through a lonely alley and then cursing herself for doing so. Yes, it might determine whether or not she was being followed, but she had also unwittingly provided the possible tail with a chance to attack. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She sped up again, turning. The shadow was still there. She broke into a full run and emerged into a sunlit square full of people. She breathed, and spun on one heel. Nothing. Nothing at all.
I pant slowly, drawing each breath as if it were my last. I dragged myself across the forest floor treading as carefully as I could, in my perplexed and disorientated state, to avoid slipping on the carpet of dead leaves layering the floor-I then dragged myself up a hill, struggling to do so (as one hand was clutching a wound in my stomach, caused by a earlier encounter with a Sabre-Cat) and having to dig my nails into the dry mud to prevent my fall. I, after much effort, manage to claw my way to the top; I collapsed in a heap (one even more so than I was afore), I buried my face deep in the mud-mud that once disgusted me so, so much, but now was desirable comfort: typical Stockholm syndrome. After what seemed like an hour (or was it an age?) I decided to battle on. I grunted as I dug myself out of the mud. I willed myself to stand, staggering (both emotionally and physically) as I did so, and looked out-my vision akin to a dark tunnel with light at the other end, upon the almost spectral view before me. Then I noticed something. A something that was ever so important yet I tried to avoid it. It took me a while to notice it-what with my vision-but when I did, it did. This is it, there is no point fighting anymore, I may as well give in. I felt my body drape as my will crumbled, as if they were directly akin to each other. I am now falling. Falling, falling through endless darkness. I cannot see anything but I am aware of something. I am heading towards it. I am getting ever closer to it… I stop. It is a voice, and upon hearing this voice, I started to feel again. I started to be more aware of everything. I could move independently now. I moved towards the voice: it lured me in. I am almost there; there is no stopping now…
It was nearly nine o’ clock. Elliot had, naturally, ignored Thaddeus’ offer. It was getting dark now, as he walked down the narrow street between tall houses. Elliot was always wary after his uncle made an offer. He always had the feeling he would follow him home.
ReplyDeleteSooner or later, he thought, his uncle’s offer would be ‘give me the inheritance and I’ll give you your life.’
A slate slipped from the roof above him and shattered on the tarmac. Elliot looked up, straining his eyes against the gathering gloom. A street-light directly above him stopped him seeing clearly, but he could swear something, someone, had moved.
It’s just a pigeon, he chided himself. These roofs have needed repairing for ages.
He left the roads and started on the footpath to his parents’, his, house. It sat on the common, its dark bulk squatting like some unseen creature ready to spring.
The burglar alarm was a stroke of genius. In his father’s study was a painted silhouette of a person at the window. When the motion detectors sensed someone, the study light would flick on, creating the illusion of someone standing at the window. It was a great deterrent.
The study light was on. Elliot could see if even from his distance. Someone had been here before him.
He turned quickly. No-one there. He was just scaring himself. A fox or a badger, or even a cat, had set it off. He fought to control his breathing and turned back to the house. For a split second, a shape darted across the light.
Elliot ducked. In the darkness, with his black coat on, crouching amongst the heather by the side of the footpath, no-one would be able to he him. At least, that was what he hoped.
Every sound felt louder, as it always does when one is trying to be silent. His heart was pounding in his chest and ears like a drum. Try as he might, he could not control his breathing.
He crept forwards, aiming straight for the house, avoiding the path. There was nothing he could use out here. Endless heath, not even a tree where he could find a big stick.
The light abruptly went out.
Elliot was alone on the common, with nothing to guide him. And someone was behind him.
As soon as the thought occurred, he whirled around.
Nobody there.
He straightened, chiding himself for being stupid. Who could possibly want to follow him? He headed purposefully towards the house.
Lin stepped out of the taxi. Her hi-tops touched the concrete pavement and she struck out of the marketplace bustle towards the suburbs. The traffic was confettied over the road, a sprawling landscape of brick and steel.
ReplyDeleteA shadow flickered in her peripheral vision. She turned surreptitiously to look, and the same shadow moved behind a stall selling grapefruit. She turned, pretending she hadn’t noticed. Her mind raced with her heart.
She was being paranoid. It was nothing; just an out of place shadow in the midst of a crowd.
She shivered.
The shadow darted out from the stall and inched closer. Lin increased her pace, taking a shortcut through a lonely alley and then cursing herself for doing so.
Yes, it might determine whether or not she was being followed, but she had also unwittingly provided the possible tail with a chance to attack. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She sped up again, turning. The shadow was still there. She broke into a full run and emerged into a sunlit square full of people. She breathed, and spun on one heel.
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
I pant slowly, drawing each breath as if it were my last. I dragged myself across the forest floor treading as carefully as I could, in my perplexed and disorientated state, to avoid slipping on the carpet of dead leaves layering the floor-I then dragged myself up a hill, struggling to do so (as one hand was clutching a wound in my stomach, caused by a earlier encounter with a Sabre-Cat) and having to dig my nails into the dry mud to prevent my fall. I, after much effort, manage to claw my way to the top; I collapsed in a heap (one even more so than I was afore), I buried my face deep in the mud-mud that once disgusted me so, so much, but now was desirable comfort: typical Stockholm syndrome. After what seemed like an hour (or was it an age?) I decided to battle on. I grunted as I dug myself out of the mud. I willed myself to stand, staggering (both emotionally and physically) as I did so, and looked out-my vision akin to a dark tunnel with light at the other end, upon the almost spectral view before me.
ReplyDeleteThen I noticed something. A something that was ever so important yet I tried to avoid it. It took me a while to notice it-what with my vision-but when I did, it did. This is it, there is no point fighting anymore, I may as well give in. I felt my body drape as my will crumbled, as if they were directly akin to each other.
I am now falling. Falling, falling through endless darkness. I cannot see anything but I am aware of something. I am heading towards it. I am getting ever closer to it…
I stop. It is a voice, and upon hearing this voice, I started to feel again. I started to be more aware of everything. I could move independently now. I moved towards the voice: it lured me in. I am almost there; there is no stopping now…