I can hear him getting closer, his heavy footsteps echoing on the wooden floorboards as he ransacks the house. I am the last, I heard the screams of my friends and family as he found them, I hoped I had been overlooked but he is still out there searching for me.
It’s dusty where I have hidden in the cupboard, the space small and tight, I can feel my legs cramping beneath me, I consider running, shifting my position to a more comfortable one I lean forward slightly, the boards beneath my weight creaking ominously. Did he hear it? His footsteps so far away move closer, I hold my breath, praying he can’t hear the thumping of my heart in my chest. The light that seeps beneath the cupboard doorway is broken by his shadow, the line of light at the side of the door growing wider as he reaches in towards me. I close my eyes, hoping that if I can’t see him he won’t be able to see me.
“Got you!” he screams in triumph, reaching out to grab me “You’re it”
I cover my eyes “One, Two, Three, Four….”
Saturday, 27 June 2015
'Hunted' by Penelope Jones
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