Writing Short Stories
Here are the short stories from the 2015/16 Writing Group. We hope you enjoy reading them!
Escaping to Snow
I looked under all the floorboards in the upstairs attic making sure that all of my supplies were there. Tomorrow it was going to happen. Tomorrow I must escape. Most people would feel scared, nervous or at least have some worries about getting caught when they escape. I was not. Not anymore at least. Now I was afraid of dying trapped in this prison without even trying anything to free myself. I would go down fighting.
…
I woke up to the sound of a red bird singing outside the tiny window. It was time. I collected my few belongings and packed up my survival supplies. All of which I’d stolen or bribed from the soldiers they sent to act as my jailers, in this prison which used to be my home. It was still early in the morning so the soldiers were still asleep when I snuck out of the door that led to the old backyard of my used to be home. Clambering as quietly as I could over the fence, I headed into the woods.
I’d been walking for at least three hours before the alarms sounded. I could only hear them faintly in the distance. I knew they wouldn’t find me. I wouldn’t let them. Even so I kept under the cover of the trees as a precaution. I walked for hours up and over hills. I leaped from rock to rock to cross streams, but I didn’t feel tired. I couldn’t feel tired because I could only feel numb and hollow. I’d become numb of emotion and any pain inflicted on me. I’d become hollow from the loss of my family, life and my spirit that had been stolen by months of imprisonment. As the day passed by however, my hollowness began to fill. I became full with anger, bitterness and a loathing pain. It mixed together inside of me, becoming a chaotic fire that I would unleash on the people who had destroyed me and put the world at war.
I came to a leveled off clearing on a hill that gave me a view of my used to be home. I hadn’t noticed it before but it had changed completely.
KBF
World War Angel
Her breath was rattling in her lungs. Her legs burning despite the unbearable cold. She broke the mist surrounding the oak woods. Woods she had never dared to enter until now. The lazy sun began to climb in the sky. Hopefully the temperature will rise. She thought to herself. It was the dead of winter and the sky was graying. Clear chunks of ice plummeted to the frozen ground. If I go deeper into the forest the branches might cover me. Angel thought. She trudged on, fighting off weariness. The wind started to pick up, blowing her pitch black hair around her head. Her large backpack was slapping against her narrow back, which was only protected by a thin fleece.
She started to walk, feeling faint with lack of sleep. After a few more minutes of wandering aimlessly, she began hearing sounds, small and almost seeming far away. She started listening more carefully. She heard the sound of heavy wheels, dogs barking, and loud men shouting coming closer to her.
“The Army!” She said aloud. She began to run, fear and adrenaline pumping through her small frame. Her feet pounding on the frozen ground, her breath visible in the freezing winter air. She found a small cave, a small space dug into the earth, too big for a soldier, but just small enough to shelter her. She began to crawl into the tight space. The dogs could find her simply by sniffing the ground. She then remembered a trick her father had shown her once. She quickly grabbed a strong smelling plant from a nearby tree and as she heard the dogs approaching she crawled into her cave. She threw the plant away from where she was, the dogs left her alone and took off after the plant. She waited until they were far away from her to crawl out of the cramped space, she took off running again, deeper into the black forest. The hail pounding in rhythm with her footsteps. She knew that the trick wouldn’t keep them at bay for long, but it bought her some time.
After about an hour of running, she came to a stop. Breathing hard she looked around at the open space around her. The hail had subsided to a light snow, which was drifting silently to the powdery ground. The trees were covered in a white glaze. Her breath came out in white puffs, like a little cloud from her blue lips. Knowing she would have to be one the run for a while since the army was still hot on her trail, she decided against building some type of shelter. She took a small hand axe from her bag and walked over to a huge oak tree. She began to cut down limbs from the tree.
After about four hours of gathering berries, and wood she decided to find a place to regroup and start to cook her food for lunch. She found a small place sheltered by an overhanging hill. She rolled out her sleeping bag and threw her backpack on top. She took out a frozen handful of blueberries and plunked down beside her things. She grabbed the bag by the bottom and turned it upside down, dumping all of the survival supplies onto the frozen ground. Her pocket knife was the first thing to catch her eye. The bleached white ground glinting against unsheathed blade. She picked it up, and stroked her finger against the flat of the blade. She folded it carefully and put it in her fleece pocket. The next thing to snatch her attention was the clothing she had hastily thrown in. A few long sleeved shirts, two pairs of jeans, and a worn down coat. She grabbed the coat and shrugged it on, letting the warmth and softness of the fabric embrace her broken and frozen body.
She found a lighter next. She took the wood she had collected and set it in a pile along with some leaves. Starting the fire would be difficult though, because everything was wet from the new snow. She cleared some of the white powder from the ground and dug up the dry ground with a small hand shovel. She set the logs on the ground a clicked the lighter to life. After the first few tries nothing happened, but finally a spark caught a twig and set the pile ablaze. She huddled as close to the flames as she could get without setting her hair on fire.
She stayed there and thought about what she was going to do, when an unwelcome thought crossed her mind. Her Family. She tried to slam a door hard on the thought but it wouldn’t leave her mind. Their agonizing screams flashed across her memory. She was shaking and not just from the cold, this time it was from fear, anger and hatred but mostly it was pain. She hugged herself tightly because if she didn’t, she threatened to break to pieces.
As the day dragged on she decided to go hunting. Stomping out her fire, she wrapped the remaining logs in the sleeping bag to keep them dry, then packed up for a hunt. It was about mid-afternoon when she was finally packed and ready. She took the bow she and her father had made two years ago from the house as she was running. She picked up her things and trudged into the brush. She found a good spot and she drew and arrow and notched it in place. She then sat and waited, poised in a crouching position. It wasn't long before a small group of deer tromped silently through the woods in front of her. She drew her bow aiming for the eye of the largest buck. She was about to release when she heard something. She stopped and lowered her weapon. She closed her eyes and tried to listen over the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She stood stone still and listened. She thought she had caug
ht it again when she heard a magazine being loaded into place, her eyes flew open. She stood face to face with a stranger, his gun level with her heart.
MRS
Bootprints in the Snow
She walked through the woods, her feet crushed through the thin layer of snow that laid upon the ground. On either side of her, giant oak trees rose up, black and lifeless in the middle of winter. She buried her hands in her fur lined coat pockets, silently cursing herself that she had forgotten gloves. With each step she was all too aware of the boot imprints she left trailing behind her. They were like giant flashing arrows pointing her way. It made her stomach twist with unease. Hopefully it would snow again soon to cover her tracks.
She looked up at the sky where there was an white expanse of clouds. The clouds were both close and far away, as if she was trapped in a white box with no hope of escape. Her breathing was labored due to the fact that she had been walking for hours with a heavy backpack slung across her shoulders. Her lungs expanded as she sucked in the frigid winter air into her warm body. Even with the endless walking she was cold. Not only were her pink gloveless hands freezing but her whole body was being racked with shivers. The wind was like cold icy hands that gently curled its way around her neck as if they wanted to suck the life out of her in a lovers embrace.The wind teared through her jacket as simply as if it were made of paper. She shoved all these discomforts to the back her mind and tried to focus on her task to make it to safety.
Should I even be here, she wondered. When she found the note from her mother telling her to go to the forest she didn’t really question it. She was already emotionally stunned that the request didn’t seem insane. She had gotten home one day to find the house a wreck. There was bits of broken plates haphazardly scattered across the floor. The cabinets doors ripped off their hinges with their contents strewn around the room. She remembered the blind panic that had risen up in her as she went from room to room shouting for her mother. All she found was a crumpled note hidden under her pillow telling her to run and hide in the forest. Though it shocked her, she didn’t hesitate for a moment to go gather her supplies and run to the woods. Her mother always thought like the end of the world was going to happen at any moment. Maybe her mother was overreacting but there was something about the urgent scribble scrawl that just seem sincere, like her life depended on it. However her living in the forest? Sure she had done some survival tasks. She knew how to build a tent and light a fire, but to actually live in the forest, and for how long? These questions loomed above her like a thick fog. She tried to direct her thoughts away from these haunting questions, however in the silence of the woods those thoughts started to creep in. Images of her mother and how she found the wrecked house threatened overtake her mind. She had to believe that her mother was alive and that she would somehow find her. There were too many uncertainties. Instead she focused on surviving. She had to survive for her mother. So she kept on walking deeper and deeper into the woods.
After four hours of walking through the snow, her socks were soaked and she was thoroughly exhausted. Not even caring about her location, she just managed to unclip her backpack from around her before she tumbled to the ground in a unflattering heap. Her head propped up against her backpack she exhaled loudly and closed her eyes. Her limbs ached and her back was sore from trekking through the ice covered woods in such a tense state. She seemed unwilling to move and inch from her spot. If a bear was to come and eat me right now I wouldn't even care, she thought to herself. For a moment she just let herself lie there and forget about everything. However the ground got colder and the sky got darker until she was forced to open her eyes and stand up, unless she planned to spend the night exposed on the ground. Analyzing her surroundings, she located a small creek dripping down through the forest. She just happened to be in a small clearing with trees and underbrush around her, hopefully concealing her from any unwanted eyes. Even though her limbs scream with protest, she got to work with setting up camp.
She had managed to find a protected campsite. Not only would the trees conceal her but they would also be a windblock from the harsh winter season. Looking up at the tips of the trees she figured out which way the wind blew, since the trees had grown in a slanted direction. She moved to the edge of the clearing on the right side of the trees. Moving her bag to the side, she stomped on the snow around the imprint she had already made. She had a faint grin on her blushed face and with each stomp she felt a weight lift off her chest. The packed snow would hopefully make the ground more stable and if it didn’t at least it felt good. She spread the tent canvas out on the packed lumpy ground. The bright green material shone out like a beacon on the snow. Of course the only tent she had at home was highlighted. She suddenly looked into the woods, her eyes scanning the empty branches hungrily. The pit of her stomach tingled with unease. Every black gap between the trees were eyes peering at her and every twig that snapped was her enemy walking through the woods. Who even is my enemy? she wondered, Who am I even hiding from? She didn’t know. There were too many unknowns out here and what she did know just lead to more unknowns. She brushed these thoughts off and tried to distract herself by working, after all she couldn’t change the color of the tent.
She quickly had the tent assembly but the stakes were refusing to stay in the frozen ground. Under pale bent grass there were solid icicles, cementing the ground with no way to break through. She stood up quickly and threw down the stakes scattering them around on the ground. Biting back her anger she hunted the ground for the pegs and tried shoving them into the icy ground again. She finally managed to get the pegs to stay in the frozen ground, though she wasn't sure that they would hold up well against much wind. Assessing her work she walked around the tent slowly and deemed it stable enough. However that bright green was taunting her again. She marched down to the stream again and scoped a handful of the dark mud lining the sides of the stream. The mud froze her already cold hands but she rubbed onto the exterior of the tent. The material wore the mud like a second skin and covered up most of the glowing color. She spent the rest of the evening covering her tent with mud. Though it was still obvious that it was a tent at least it was a glowing beacon that you could see from miles away. Her hands were covered in mud from her labor, it managed to get into the crevices of her skin and under her nails. Knowing in ways in vain she dragged her hands into the snow, leaving behind a trail of dirt. She stuffed her throbbing cold hands into her jacket hoping that she wouldn’t get frostbite. As long as she could still feel her hands she thought they were fine so she rubbed warmth back into her hands.
The trees were casting long shadows across the snow and the winter sun sunk under the horizon. Knowing that the nocturnal animals would soon come out she searched the surrounding woods for dried twigs to start a fire. She built a little teepee out of dried twigs in a clear patch of snow and laid moss on the inside. She had built a fire before during a school trip but it had taken her many tries to get it started, and even then it only stayed lit for one minute. She took one of her matches and stuck it hard against the box. It lit creating a little dancing flame and a small circle of light. She quickly lit the moss and tried to get the twigs to light. The moss and twigs were too wet and refused to lit and the fire slowly sputtered out leaving behind a small pile of ash. She growled to herself and knocked over the teepee with her hand knowing that future attempts would be also fruitless. Deciding that she could spend this night without a fire she climbed into her tent.
Lying there on her back knowing that she had no idea what her life would be life in a month, in a week, even in a day, she couldn’t help but cry a little. How will her mother contact her? Why did she even tell her to go into the forest? Where was her mother now? In the darkness of the tent these thoughts loomed up like smoke with no chimney to escape through, threatening to choke her to death.
CEF
The Unknown people
His breath was rumbling in his lungs. He quickly grabbed his wrecked bike out of the old wood shed standing in his small backyard. The shed was barely taken care of, and almost never used by him. He lived alone, his parents having died in an Car crash. But right now, he had worse to think about. He could hear the heavy stomping and rattling of gear of the people coming up from behind him as he was getting on his bike. “It must be them” he spoke softly as he was charging out of his front yard.
His legs were getting tired. He had no idea what time it was, but it was dark, very dark. He kept going, hoping that no one would notice him. As the wind was getting stronger, blowing onto his cold bare skin Joe noticed that he was coming onto a small path leading into a forest. “Did I take everything I need?” he asked himself curiously. “Toiletries, Tent, flashlight, Firestarters, knife, clothing, a map and compass and a sleeping bag” he said to himself as he was recalling moments that had happened just a couple of minutes earlier.
26 minutes earlier:
Joe was sitting on his bed, watching a survival TV show on his TV, thinking about what he could do today. It was a sunday afternoon and Winter Break had just started. Most of his friends went somewhere during this time because they could not ski in his Area. There were mountains, but no snow. He was about to turn his TV off when a red and white logo started flashing on his screen. A deep voice was repeatedly saying “This is an emergency Broadcast, please pay attention. This is an emergency Broadcast, please pay attention.” After a while, the logo stopped flashing and the deep voice stopped talking. A silhouette of a man appeared on the screen, but as soon as he had said “Run” the screen went black.
He quickly jumped out of his bed, his body trembling with fear. What is going on? He asked himself. His heart started beating faster and faster. 90, 100, 110, 120, 130 beats per minute. He started feeling unsure, a feeling that he had not had since his parents had died. He opened his window, the sound of gunfire suddenly flooding his ears. As his instincts kicked in he quickly shut the window again, but he could still hear the gunfire. He remembered the words of the Man in the TV “Run”.
As his instincts kicked in, Joe shut the window, still hearing the gunfire outside. He turned around to see his bedside lamp turn off. He quickly flicked the power switch, hoping that it would still turn back on, but it did not.
MaB
Running beneath a cloudless sky
Andreas woke to a cloudless sky, and the sun beaming down on his sweaty face. He had been on the run for the past few days, with the terrorist who had raided his village and killed his family not far behind. After an exhausting run the night before he had fallen to the ground after doing some stretches to prevent injury in his muscles. As he stood up he looked around. The desert landscape that he called home was smouldering, from the sandy hills to the vast, deserted, sandy plains. It was winter but you could barely tell. His now distant home was luckily built in a cooler part of this boiling landscape. He used to live in a village in the desert bordering the rainforests of Ecuador. His goal when running from the terrorists had also been the rainforest, for there he could hide and the terrorists were not able to use their jeeps in the lush but treacherous paradise. He stood up ready to continue his journey when something unexpectedly caught his attention.
In the distance, Andreas heard the sound of engines, presumably coming from the terrorists’ jeeps. He was ready to run away after hearing the distant noise. He expected the sound to come closer, but it only died away. Andreas wondered why this fear inducing sound was gone, the terrorists were hell bent on finding and killing him, they would only abandon this quest for an even greater goal. “Another village!” he thought out loud. In the blink of an eye Andreas realised that this village would have the same fate as his. Driven by this new need to save the innocent people in the nearby village, Andreas lifted his right leg and placed it in an upright position, his left leg followed. With all his strength he stood up. His muscles tensed and he crouched down to avoid falling. He attempted to stand up again, and this time, he relaxed his muscles before tensing them when he was standing completely upright. Andreas’ legs felt like they were being ripped apart. He carefully stepped forward and gradually walked towards a hill from which he could see. The climb was without trouble. From top of the hill, which was covered in sand, he saw the village about 6 km from his current position. He then saw the terrorists about 2 km closer. Andreas ran as if his life depended on it. He was determined to save the innocents living in the doomed village. The village was now only a kilometer away, but the deafening sound of engines grew closer and closer. As he ran, his body grew tired, and he prayed that the village would be saved. Only god could help them now.
He arrived too late, the village had been raided by the marauders. Blood decorated the golden sands. A faint scream echoed from behind and Andreas saw a young women being carried off in a jeep filled with guns. Andreas attempted to chase them, but his use of energy was in vain. He heard a loud chuckle before the roar of the jeeps died off in the distance.
He fell down to the floor. I must keep going he thought. He tried to move weakened body. He struggled to move his numb legs. They were exhausted. He had chased the terrorist for about an hour or two after which he returned to the village which took equally long. He felt hatred at the thought of the insane murderers. This hatred fueled his desire to stand up and pursue the terrorist, but it was not enough. His legs were completely paralysed. A tear ran down his face as his animosity for the terrorists turned into remorse for his dead family. They were so helpless, especially his brother, who was only six, screamed his name before being shot through the head. He lay there thinking of his deceased family, and feeling that now he would truly be on his own.
His attention turned towards survival, he started looking back and forth for supplies.
After looking around he spotted a shed about 50 meters from the village. Fortunately, it had not been found by the raiders. The door opened with a silent creek and a cloud of dust. He took a few careful steps towards a drawer and with a quick motion of his hands pulled it open. Surprisingly, he found a machete, a first aid kit and a bag. He opened another drawer and found more supplies. Everything that he found he stored in the bag. After 15 minutes of gathering supplies, in which he found an old tent, a sleeping bag and some stakes, he left the dust covered cabin, Confident of what he would do next.
The small river flowed peacefully and steadily. The river, along with trees containing fruits were a very attractive sight and a perfect place to set up camp. Naturally, Andreas was drawn to this opportunity and decided to set up camp immediately. The ground was damp and moist and it was hard to place the stakes in the ground. However, after a few attempts he finally hammered the first stake in the ground. The next stakes were inserted just as easily. As he did this his eyes fell upon two steep hills not too far away. After he had set up camp he lay down on the muddy floor. His mind sank into thought as his body slowly sank into the mud.
Andreas was awoken from his trance-like state by the sound of his stomach grumbling. I need food he thought. He suddenly only thought of one thing, food. He struggled to get up as his feet and legs were slightly stuck in the mud. With a slow motion of his hand he grabbed the machete. He was both excited and afraid at the thought of using his newfound weapon. he tighten his grip on his knife when he saw a rabbit closeby. He crouched and took a few light steps towards the rabbit. The rabbit sensed Andreas’ presence. The rabbit started turning it’s head anxiously. Now’s my chance Andreas thought and he lunged for the rabbit. Andreas missed by a few centimeters and the rabbit ran away quickly. Andreas was furious. He stood up and sprinted towards the rabbit, but the rabbit was fast. Andreas sprinted as fast as he could and once he was a few feet away Andreas sprung forwards and with a violent stab plunged the machete into the rabbit. Bright red blood squirted from the rabbit’s body. Andreas grinned at the sight of his killing. He picked up the rabbit slowly as it twitched for the last time.
The rabbit grew a beautiful crust over the roasting fire. The taste of food brought happiness to Andreas’ clouded feelings. Unfortunately, the rabbit attracted more than Andreas had predicted. The lovely smell of roasted rabbit made its way to a cave hidden in the mountains. The smell entered the nostrils of a sleeping coyote. The coyote opened his eyes and stood up; it was hungry. Andreas heard a silent growl in the distance. He stood up and checked around the camp. When he was reassured everything was safe he sat down and continued eating his food. Suddenly, a coyote ambushed him from behind. It plunged it’s claws into Andreas’ stomach. Andreas’ screamed in agony. He quickly reached for his machete but the coyote bit his arm. Andreas screamed again. He felt a growing rage inside him. With a rageful, strong push he threw the coyote off of him. He jumped up, grabbed his machete, and sprinted away. The coyote pursued Andreas but it was distracted by the rabbit still at the camp. Andreas jumped into the river closeby. As he was pulled away by the flow and his machete slipped out of his hand. Andreas struggled to swim to the shore but the current was too strong and it pulled him further and further away from the shore. He made one last effort but his head it a tiny rock and everything went black.
Light returned to Andreas’ eyes and he woke to a dim sun close to the west. Suddenly, he saw flashes of what had happened before hand. It’s almost sundown! he thought to himself as he tried jumping up. His mind spunned from the concussion he had, but he ignored it. He looked around him for some form of protection. Nothing he thought but from the corner of his hand he saw a something shining in the dark yellow sand. “My machete!” he shouted as he ran towards it. His head was still spinning and tripped. I can’t do it he thought. He kept this thought with him for a few moments. I have to try again. Now! he thought. He struggled to stand up. This time he took smaller, easier steps. He crouched down and picked up his blade. It had been damaged slightly but was still in good condition. Where am I? he wondered. He recognised his position when he saw to steep hills up ahead. He had seen them earlier while setting up camp. He suddenly realised that his camp must be that direction. He sighed as he realised that he would have to make the walk and get to his camp before the sun passed by the two mountains in the West. After Which the sun would be blocked and he would have no chance of returning home safely.
The walk was long and Andreas estimated that it took about an hour. When he arrived at his camp it had been scavenged by the coyote. Everything was a mess. Andreas fell to the ground. His wound was stinging badly. He looked around for his first aid kit. “Thank god” he thought when he saw it lying under his nearly destroyed tent. He ran towards it keeping in mind not to trip. He opened it and took out the disinfectant. He sprayed it over his giant cut and took out a bandage. He carefully wrapped it around his wound. In the distance he saw the sun setting and he grabbed out his sleeping bag. He lay down into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes.
“Wake up son, wake up!” a voice in the darkness whispered. Andreas was confused.
“Mom, is that you?” Andreas asked sleepily
“Yes child, it’s me, you have done well. I’m proud of you”
“Mom, I miss you”
“I know son, but you must accept our demise”
“But mom, please come back”
“I can’t son, it’s too late”
“No!”
“Yes Andreas, good luck. You can do it”
The voice disappeared and a silent tear ran down Andreas’ face.
“Goodbye,mom”
Andreas closed his eyes again and he calmed down. Silently, he made his prayer, before falling asleep.
NS
My memory
The death and The rebirth
Although after 30 years, I still remember that day, that night, that moon. My dear readers, now I am going to show you my secret story which is bloody, exciting and contains REBIRTH.
A huge bear was running behind me, I ran as quickly as I could. You know it is really important for a hungry bear to get something to eat in the foreboding forest. Unluckily, I would be its prey, it was really a terrifying hunter. I could believe it is one of the most bloody hunters in the world. At that moment, I felt death close to me, I could even hear the sound of my body breaking by this black animal’s mouth. Oh! My god, please help me. This sentence appeared in my brain again and again.
Who could believe that 10 hours ago I was sitting in front of the TV while enjoying my holiday in Russia. Even I can’t believe, but it really happened.
“008, I told you I would kill you someday. Unbelievable, that it is today”, a man with black mask took a gun from his jacket. It was an AK47, cold and bloody.
“No I am not 008, I just a usual girl” I said.
“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted rudely, “I know who you are, look at this photo!”
An unnamed fear came to my heart, I didn’t know why. On the photo, there is a girl with black narrow clothing. She takes on an AK47 to a someone’s head.
“it’s not mine, trust me, I … I promise.” I had really no idea about why that image was so familiar to me.
Suddenly all the world become dark, It seems like I have already died. Quiet, quiet, very quiet, only the sound of leaves.
“Wake up”
Leaves, is this the paradise or a forest? I have no answer,
“008, I know you are waking up now. I tell you death cannot effect anything, it even cannot reduce the hating from me to you. I want you get the same pain as my brother. You will know hopeless and fear is worse than death.”
The last sentence from him, I could hear is : “Enjoy, I have prepared for today for a very long time.”
Newton's First Law : Any object remains stationary state or uniform motion until the force by force it to other objects to change this state.
If I only used one word to explain the situation of me, then it would be “fall”. Ja, that’s right fall. By listening the sounds of the wind, I could know I was pushed by that ugly “badass”. There were other 10 things which accompany with me by him. The most funny thing in my brain is was thinking about Newton’s First Law and consider whether I was in balance. However I fell on the ground. Until now, I believe it wasn’t a dream, because of a misunderstanding I have to come to this unknown and dangerous forest for survival.
No time for me to complain, the world will never stop autobiography because of someone. Everything should follow their rules then go ahead, nobody can prevent the natural regulation. Now there are ten things accompany.
AQ
The Snowy Forest And Its Deadly Side
The cold wind flew over his body as he exited the van. He thought about the problems he was running away from as he stomped through the thick snow. He thought about how his father and brother beat him up, how he got bullied in school. But now he could become a different Lyon, a better one.
Lyon gathered some branches on the way for a fire to warm him in the cold nights. He stopped in front of the sign that had addressed the forests location. 50 more meters and he would be alone for a time, not even he could predict. Lyon stopped and clutched onto his huge black backpack. He took a deep breath and entered the forest.
It wasn’t as snow covered as he had imagined it, but it was very cold. The dark trees led into endless darkness. Lyon’s heart raced. Should I have done this?, he questioned.
He started walking faster, trying to forget about the stress filled in his whole body. He was breathing heavy and his muscles were tensed, he just couldn’t relax.
After a while of stomping through the forest he took his backpack off and rested against a tree. He pushed the snow away from the ground with his gloves and let himself glide down the trunk of the tree until he was completely sitting down. Lyon closed his eyes and rested his head on his shoulder. He smelled the wet dirt and he heard a few birds singing in the distance. He took his glove off and felt the ground, cold and wet snow that dissolved when you force it together.
The cold never bothered Lyon, he actually was quite fond of it. The only challenge in the forest for him was not having anyone to rely on, except for him and his instincts. Lyon decided to take a short cut to his destination where he wanted to set up his camp. It involved crossing a massive river, but luckily two boats were located there. Lyon indeed had done some research about the forest, he also knew that there were way more undiscovered places in it than it said in the article.
Lyon reached the hill where the river was located behind it. A smile formed on his face. Lyon had hope, he knew he could make it. But that hope soon vanished.
His heart stopped the second he caught sight of the river, it was frozen! The boats were no use now and Lyon didn't have an idea what to do. He made his way down the hill leading towards the river and pushed his backpack on the ice to see if it was safe. Nothing. It must be safe. Lyons thought was meant to comfort him, but that failed. He unhurriedly placed the first foot on the ice. He repeated with the rest of his body, so slow like time was losing speed. He was still in a crouch position, soon went into a standing position. Then, Crack. Lyon’s heart raced, he didn’t know what to do. Should he run? Or should he stand on the spot? He decided to run, if he would fall into the water, he wouldn’t have had to far to swim. Lyon raced over the dissolving ice. All of the frozen part of the river behind him was already gone, turned into small chunks of ice drifting in the water. He had a head-to-head race with the breaking ice. Suddenly, the ground under him became less solid, he felt how bitterly cold water filled his boots. The second he had been completely in the water, panic filled his mind.
,,No! Help!’’ He shouted, hoping that somebody, anybody, would save him. But Lyon was alone.
Somehow, he was able to fight the strong water. He swallowed a lot of water while heading towards land. He hysterically moved his arms and feet to keep him warm and to make him move. Finally, Lyon reached the other side of the river and pulled himself onto the ground. He fell onto his back and gasped.
,,NOOOOO!’’, he shouted smashing his fists on the ground, causing some birds flee out of the tree next to him.
Lyon got back up after calming down a little. With a slow pace, he marched towards his destination, the place where he would set up his camp. Easier said than done. Every step hurt, every time he set foot on the ground, Lyon felt his hope die.
Somehow he made it to his camp, and set it up as fast as his body would let him. At nightfall Lyon changed into the spare clothes he brought and huddled up in his sleeping bag. He pressed his face against the soft covers, trying to relax. The eager and passionate personality he had as he entered the forest disappeared, leaving a helpless man arguing with the thought to live.
TH
The Survival
The vantage point from which I was viewing winter was an uncommon one. You see, at that time I was in a space shuttle, conducting research. It’s a truly humbling experience, looking at the Earth from space and seeing parts of it slowly change seasons was marvelous indeed. I saw, over the course of many days as patches of green seamlessly turned into patches of white. It was hard to imagine that some people, might have at one point of time been down there, enjoying the winter snow. The subject I was conducting research on was, as was colloquially known, a “newbie”. He had just started his Survival, which would last for the foreseeable future (not that it would be very long). The purpose of the research was to determine the improvements that could be made to the latest model of “The Carnivore”, a machine designed to hunt down its pre-destinated target. However, expensive research had to be funded and to get public interest, they had also made it their point to make the show entertaining, so they had decided to make sure that the subject had a slightly higher chance of surviving by allowing him/her to carry 10 items that he/she thought might be important for survival.
The subject, certainly not a dim-witted fellow, started to find a flat piece of ground on an elevated surface, the sort of place, he thought, would be ideal for his camp. He knew that he did not have to worry about “The Carnivore” until the next day. He found his ideal place soon enough and swiftly started to set up his tent and he, certainly not unskilled at practical activities such as that, did it quite quickly. He had made sure that his camp was next to a stream, perhaps because he had a fishing rod with him and perhaps also because of his limited understanding of the full destructive potential of the masterpiece of a machine that was “The Carnivore”, did not know that water did not in any way hinder “The Carnivore” from getting to its victim. He then started to organize his blankets and clothes in an organized manner, after which he started gathering firewood in a way which suggested that he did not really know how to set up a fire and I wondered if he would even survive the night. However the subject, resourceful as he was, finally had a blazing fire in front of his tent, safe, safe from the feeling of stupidity that is, in the knowledge that “The Carnivore” would find him even without a beacon as visible as a fire. He then started to eat the meagre supply of food which he had brought with him, postponing the fishing for tomorrow. He then slept unusually peacefully for someone who knew that he would meet a gruesome demise tomorrow. No attempt had been made to fashion a primitive weapon, no traps had been made, no attempt to build a boat to attempt an escape from “The Carnivore”, all of which had been attempts made by previous, now dead, “newbies”. I mused if he had a plan to survive at all and then excitedly rubbed my hands together. Tomorrow’s “Chase” would surely be exciting to watch.
The morning passed uneventfully enough, the subject began to fish and had even caught some fish, when he suddenly changed his course of action and began to make a trap, a primitive trap, which by the look of it, was designed to lead “The Carnivore” to the stream and then drown it (what naivety!). He caught many fish and was cooking them over a fire, when for some unexplainable reason, he suddenly became exceedingly alert. I for one knew that “The Carnivore” was nearby, but how did he know? After all, “Carnivore” was no hulking brute. It was truly remarkable. He, coming from a poor family, was probably an experienced hunter, I wondered how many half cooked carcasses of animals he had eaten in his life time. “His teeth really must stink.” I thought. I then took a piece of chocolate cake and proceeded to eat it, watching the scene with the utmost attention. “The Carnivore” (oh what a masterpiece!) appeared before the subject; it towered over him and yet, he was not frightened. He held his spear up bravely and then began to run away from the machine. “The Carnivore” glowered at him and then after analyzing the risk of chasing him (the algorithm for which, might I add, I had written myself), it began to chase him (it was much faster than him, obviously). He ran with a stamina never before perceived in any of the other Survivals (I could almost “hear” the audience’s cheers), outpacing “The Carnivore” for quite some time. “The Carnivore” could have of course, at any time, blown him off the face of the Earth with a missile, or killed with any other projectile, but it had been decided that if “The Carnivore” were to do that, the “Chase” would not be entertaining enough. I was watching, my eyes transfixed on the screen, when suddenly, the unthinkable happened, he had succeeded in distracting it and because of that it had gotten caught in the trap. I covered my face with my hands. This was too embarrassing. What could be more embarrassing than a peasant getting the better of a state of the art machine. I watched, as “The Carnivore” abruptly tumbled forward into the river, it was not hurt, of course, but severely delayed. It was, however, still withdrawn from the arena, just in case it had somehow sustained injuries. He had lived his second day.
NM
I looked under all the floorboards in the upstairs attic making sure that all of my supplies were there. Tomorrow it was going to happen. Tomorrow I must escape. Most people would feel scared, nervous or at least have some worries about getting caught when they escape. I was not. Not anymore at least. Now I was afraid of dying trapped in this prison without even trying anything to free myself. I would go down fighting.
…
I woke up to the sound of a red bird singing outside the tiny window. It was time. I collected my few belongings and packed up my survival supplies. All of which I’d stolen or bribed from the soldiers they sent to act as my jailers, in this prison which used to be my home. It was still early in the morning so the soldiers were still asleep when I snuck out of the door that led to the old backyard of my used to be home. Clambering as quietly as I could over the fence, I headed into the woods.
I’d been walking for at least three hours before the alarms sounded. I could only hear them faintly in the distance. I knew they wouldn’t find me. I wouldn’t let them. Even so I kept under the cover of the trees as a precaution. I walked for hours up and over hills. I leaped from rock to rock to cross streams, but I didn’t feel tired. I couldn’t feel tired because I could only feel numb and hollow. I’d become numb of emotion and any pain inflicted on me. I’d become hollow from the loss of my family, life and my spirit that had been stolen by months of imprisonment. As the day passed by however, my hollowness began to fill. I became full with anger, bitterness and a loathing pain. It mixed together inside of me, becoming a chaotic fire that I would unleash on the people who had destroyed me and put the world at war.
I came to a leveled off clearing on a hill that gave me a view of my used to be home. I hadn’t noticed it before but it had changed completely.
KBF
World War Angel
Her breath was rattling in her lungs. Her legs burning despite the unbearable cold. She broke the mist surrounding the oak woods. Woods she had never dared to enter until now. The lazy sun began to climb in the sky. Hopefully the temperature will rise. She thought to herself. It was the dead of winter and the sky was graying. Clear chunks of ice plummeted to the frozen ground. If I go deeper into the forest the branches might cover me. Angel thought. She trudged on, fighting off weariness. The wind started to pick up, blowing her pitch black hair around her head. Her large backpack was slapping against her narrow back, which was only protected by a thin fleece.
She started to walk, feeling faint with lack of sleep. After a few more minutes of wandering aimlessly, she began hearing sounds, small and almost seeming far away. She started listening more carefully. She heard the sound of heavy wheels, dogs barking, and loud men shouting coming closer to her.
“The Army!” She said aloud. She began to run, fear and adrenaline pumping through her small frame. Her feet pounding on the frozen ground, her breath visible in the freezing winter air. She found a small cave, a small space dug into the earth, too big for a soldier, but just small enough to shelter her. She began to crawl into the tight space. The dogs could find her simply by sniffing the ground. She then remembered a trick her father had shown her once. She quickly grabbed a strong smelling plant from a nearby tree and as she heard the dogs approaching she crawled into her cave. She threw the plant away from where she was, the dogs left her alone and took off after the plant. She waited until they were far away from her to crawl out of the cramped space, she took off running again, deeper into the black forest. The hail pounding in rhythm with her footsteps. She knew that the trick wouldn’t keep them at bay for long, but it bought her some time.
After about an hour of running, she came to a stop. Breathing hard she looked around at the open space around her. The hail had subsided to a light snow, which was drifting silently to the powdery ground. The trees were covered in a white glaze. Her breath came out in white puffs, like a little cloud from her blue lips. Knowing she would have to be one the run for a while since the army was still hot on her trail, she decided against building some type of shelter. She took a small hand axe from her bag and walked over to a huge oak tree. She began to cut down limbs from the tree.
After about four hours of gathering berries, and wood she decided to find a place to regroup and start to cook her food for lunch. She found a small place sheltered by an overhanging hill. She rolled out her sleeping bag and threw her backpack on top. She took out a frozen handful of blueberries and plunked down beside her things. She grabbed the bag by the bottom and turned it upside down, dumping all of the survival supplies onto the frozen ground. Her pocket knife was the first thing to catch her eye. The bleached white ground glinting against unsheathed blade. She picked it up, and stroked her finger against the flat of the blade. She folded it carefully and put it in her fleece pocket. The next thing to snatch her attention was the clothing she had hastily thrown in. A few long sleeved shirts, two pairs of jeans, and a worn down coat. She grabbed the coat and shrugged it on, letting the warmth and softness of the fabric embrace her broken and frozen body.
She found a lighter next. She took the wood she had collected and set it in a pile along with some leaves. Starting the fire would be difficult though, because everything was wet from the new snow. She cleared some of the white powder from the ground and dug up the dry ground with a small hand shovel. She set the logs on the ground a clicked the lighter to life. After the first few tries nothing happened, but finally a spark caught a twig and set the pile ablaze. She huddled as close to the flames as she could get without setting her hair on fire.
She stayed there and thought about what she was going to do, when an unwelcome thought crossed her mind. Her Family. She tried to slam a door hard on the thought but it wouldn’t leave her mind. Their agonizing screams flashed across her memory. She was shaking and not just from the cold, this time it was from fear, anger and hatred but mostly it was pain. She hugged herself tightly because if she didn’t, she threatened to break to pieces.
As the day dragged on she decided to go hunting. Stomping out her fire, she wrapped the remaining logs in the sleeping bag to keep them dry, then packed up for a hunt. It was about mid-afternoon when she was finally packed and ready. She took the bow she and her father had made two years ago from the house as she was running. She picked up her things and trudged into the brush. She found a good spot and she drew and arrow and notched it in place. She then sat and waited, poised in a crouching position. It wasn't long before a small group of deer tromped silently through the woods in front of her. She drew her bow aiming for the eye of the largest buck. She was about to release when she heard something. She stopped and lowered her weapon. She closed her eyes and tried to listen over the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She stood stone still and listened. She thought she had caug
ht it again when she heard a magazine being loaded into place, her eyes flew open. She stood face to face with a stranger, his gun level with her heart.
MRS
Bootprints in the Snow
She walked through the woods, her feet crushed through the thin layer of snow that laid upon the ground. On either side of her, giant oak trees rose up, black and lifeless in the middle of winter. She buried her hands in her fur lined coat pockets, silently cursing herself that she had forgotten gloves. With each step she was all too aware of the boot imprints she left trailing behind her. They were like giant flashing arrows pointing her way. It made her stomach twist with unease. Hopefully it would snow again soon to cover her tracks.
She looked up at the sky where there was an white expanse of clouds. The clouds were both close and far away, as if she was trapped in a white box with no hope of escape. Her breathing was labored due to the fact that she had been walking for hours with a heavy backpack slung across her shoulders. Her lungs expanded as she sucked in the frigid winter air into her warm body. Even with the endless walking she was cold. Not only were her pink gloveless hands freezing but her whole body was being racked with shivers. The wind was like cold icy hands that gently curled its way around her neck as if they wanted to suck the life out of her in a lovers embrace.The wind teared through her jacket as simply as if it were made of paper. She shoved all these discomforts to the back her mind and tried to focus on her task to make it to safety.
Should I even be here, she wondered. When she found the note from her mother telling her to go to the forest she didn’t really question it. She was already emotionally stunned that the request didn’t seem insane. She had gotten home one day to find the house a wreck. There was bits of broken plates haphazardly scattered across the floor. The cabinets doors ripped off their hinges with their contents strewn around the room. She remembered the blind panic that had risen up in her as she went from room to room shouting for her mother. All she found was a crumpled note hidden under her pillow telling her to run and hide in the forest. Though it shocked her, she didn’t hesitate for a moment to go gather her supplies and run to the woods. Her mother always thought like the end of the world was going to happen at any moment. Maybe her mother was overreacting but there was something about the urgent scribble scrawl that just seem sincere, like her life depended on it. However her living in the forest? Sure she had done some survival tasks. She knew how to build a tent and light a fire, but to actually live in the forest, and for how long? These questions loomed above her like a thick fog. She tried to direct her thoughts away from these haunting questions, however in the silence of the woods those thoughts started to creep in. Images of her mother and how she found the wrecked house threatened overtake her mind. She had to believe that her mother was alive and that she would somehow find her. There were too many uncertainties. Instead she focused on surviving. She had to survive for her mother. So she kept on walking deeper and deeper into the woods.
After four hours of walking through the snow, her socks were soaked and she was thoroughly exhausted. Not even caring about her location, she just managed to unclip her backpack from around her before she tumbled to the ground in a unflattering heap. Her head propped up against her backpack she exhaled loudly and closed her eyes. Her limbs ached and her back was sore from trekking through the ice covered woods in such a tense state. She seemed unwilling to move and inch from her spot. If a bear was to come and eat me right now I wouldn't even care, she thought to herself. For a moment she just let herself lie there and forget about everything. However the ground got colder and the sky got darker until she was forced to open her eyes and stand up, unless she planned to spend the night exposed on the ground. Analyzing her surroundings, she located a small creek dripping down through the forest. She just happened to be in a small clearing with trees and underbrush around her, hopefully concealing her from any unwanted eyes. Even though her limbs scream with protest, she got to work with setting up camp.
She had managed to find a protected campsite. Not only would the trees conceal her but they would also be a windblock from the harsh winter season. Looking up at the tips of the trees she figured out which way the wind blew, since the trees had grown in a slanted direction. She moved to the edge of the clearing on the right side of the trees. Moving her bag to the side, she stomped on the snow around the imprint she had already made. She had a faint grin on her blushed face and with each stomp she felt a weight lift off her chest. The packed snow would hopefully make the ground more stable and if it didn’t at least it felt good. She spread the tent canvas out on the packed lumpy ground. The bright green material shone out like a beacon on the snow. Of course the only tent she had at home was highlighted. She suddenly looked into the woods, her eyes scanning the empty branches hungrily. The pit of her stomach tingled with unease. Every black gap between the trees were eyes peering at her and every twig that snapped was her enemy walking through the woods. Who even is my enemy? she wondered, Who am I even hiding from? She didn’t know. There were too many unknowns out here and what she did know just lead to more unknowns. She brushed these thoughts off and tried to distract herself by working, after all she couldn’t change the color of the tent.
She quickly had the tent assembly but the stakes were refusing to stay in the frozen ground. Under pale bent grass there were solid icicles, cementing the ground with no way to break through. She stood up quickly and threw down the stakes scattering them around on the ground. Biting back her anger she hunted the ground for the pegs and tried shoving them into the icy ground again. She finally managed to get the pegs to stay in the frozen ground, though she wasn't sure that they would hold up well against much wind. Assessing her work she walked around the tent slowly and deemed it stable enough. However that bright green was taunting her again. She marched down to the stream again and scoped a handful of the dark mud lining the sides of the stream. The mud froze her already cold hands but she rubbed onto the exterior of the tent. The material wore the mud like a second skin and covered up most of the glowing color. She spent the rest of the evening covering her tent with mud. Though it was still obvious that it was a tent at least it was a glowing beacon that you could see from miles away. Her hands were covered in mud from her labor, it managed to get into the crevices of her skin and under her nails. Knowing in ways in vain she dragged her hands into the snow, leaving behind a trail of dirt. She stuffed her throbbing cold hands into her jacket hoping that she wouldn’t get frostbite. As long as she could still feel her hands she thought they were fine so she rubbed warmth back into her hands.
The trees were casting long shadows across the snow and the winter sun sunk under the horizon. Knowing that the nocturnal animals would soon come out she searched the surrounding woods for dried twigs to start a fire. She built a little teepee out of dried twigs in a clear patch of snow and laid moss on the inside. She had built a fire before during a school trip but it had taken her many tries to get it started, and even then it only stayed lit for one minute. She took one of her matches and stuck it hard against the box. It lit creating a little dancing flame and a small circle of light. She quickly lit the moss and tried to get the twigs to light. The moss and twigs were too wet and refused to lit and the fire slowly sputtered out leaving behind a small pile of ash. She growled to herself and knocked over the teepee with her hand knowing that future attempts would be also fruitless. Deciding that she could spend this night without a fire she climbed into her tent.
Lying there on her back knowing that she had no idea what her life would be life in a month, in a week, even in a day, she couldn’t help but cry a little. How will her mother contact her? Why did she even tell her to go into the forest? Where was her mother now? In the darkness of the tent these thoughts loomed up like smoke with no chimney to escape through, threatening to choke her to death.
CEF
The Unknown people
His breath was rumbling in his lungs. He quickly grabbed his wrecked bike out of the old wood shed standing in his small backyard. The shed was barely taken care of, and almost never used by him. He lived alone, his parents having died in an Car crash. But right now, he had worse to think about. He could hear the heavy stomping and rattling of gear of the people coming up from behind him as he was getting on his bike. “It must be them” he spoke softly as he was charging out of his front yard.
His legs were getting tired. He had no idea what time it was, but it was dark, very dark. He kept going, hoping that no one would notice him. As the wind was getting stronger, blowing onto his cold bare skin Joe noticed that he was coming onto a small path leading into a forest. “Did I take everything I need?” he asked himself curiously. “Toiletries, Tent, flashlight, Firestarters, knife, clothing, a map and compass and a sleeping bag” he said to himself as he was recalling moments that had happened just a couple of minutes earlier.
26 minutes earlier:
Joe was sitting on his bed, watching a survival TV show on his TV, thinking about what he could do today. It was a sunday afternoon and Winter Break had just started. Most of his friends went somewhere during this time because they could not ski in his Area. There were mountains, but no snow. He was about to turn his TV off when a red and white logo started flashing on his screen. A deep voice was repeatedly saying “This is an emergency Broadcast, please pay attention. This is an emergency Broadcast, please pay attention.” After a while, the logo stopped flashing and the deep voice stopped talking. A silhouette of a man appeared on the screen, but as soon as he had said “Run” the screen went black.
He quickly jumped out of his bed, his body trembling with fear. What is going on? He asked himself. His heart started beating faster and faster. 90, 100, 110, 120, 130 beats per minute. He started feeling unsure, a feeling that he had not had since his parents had died. He opened his window, the sound of gunfire suddenly flooding his ears. As his instincts kicked in he quickly shut the window again, but he could still hear the gunfire. He remembered the words of the Man in the TV “Run”.
As his instincts kicked in, Joe shut the window, still hearing the gunfire outside. He turned around to see his bedside lamp turn off. He quickly flicked the power switch, hoping that it would still turn back on, but it did not.
MaB
Running beneath a cloudless sky
Andreas woke to a cloudless sky, and the sun beaming down on his sweaty face. He had been on the run for the past few days, with the terrorist who had raided his village and killed his family not far behind. After an exhausting run the night before he had fallen to the ground after doing some stretches to prevent injury in his muscles. As he stood up he looked around. The desert landscape that he called home was smouldering, from the sandy hills to the vast, deserted, sandy plains. It was winter but you could barely tell. His now distant home was luckily built in a cooler part of this boiling landscape. He used to live in a village in the desert bordering the rainforests of Ecuador. His goal when running from the terrorists had also been the rainforest, for there he could hide and the terrorists were not able to use their jeeps in the lush but treacherous paradise. He stood up ready to continue his journey when something unexpectedly caught his attention.
In the distance, Andreas heard the sound of engines, presumably coming from the terrorists’ jeeps. He was ready to run away after hearing the distant noise. He expected the sound to come closer, but it only died away. Andreas wondered why this fear inducing sound was gone, the terrorists were hell bent on finding and killing him, they would only abandon this quest for an even greater goal. “Another village!” he thought out loud. In the blink of an eye Andreas realised that this village would have the same fate as his. Driven by this new need to save the innocent people in the nearby village, Andreas lifted his right leg and placed it in an upright position, his left leg followed. With all his strength he stood up. His muscles tensed and he crouched down to avoid falling. He attempted to stand up again, and this time, he relaxed his muscles before tensing them when he was standing completely upright. Andreas’ legs felt like they were being ripped apart. He carefully stepped forward and gradually walked towards a hill from which he could see. The climb was without trouble. From top of the hill, which was covered in sand, he saw the village about 6 km from his current position. He then saw the terrorists about 2 km closer. Andreas ran as if his life depended on it. He was determined to save the innocents living in the doomed village. The village was now only a kilometer away, but the deafening sound of engines grew closer and closer. As he ran, his body grew tired, and he prayed that the village would be saved. Only god could help them now.
He arrived too late, the village had been raided by the marauders. Blood decorated the golden sands. A faint scream echoed from behind and Andreas saw a young women being carried off in a jeep filled with guns. Andreas attempted to chase them, but his use of energy was in vain. He heard a loud chuckle before the roar of the jeeps died off in the distance.
He fell down to the floor. I must keep going he thought. He tried to move weakened body. He struggled to move his numb legs. They were exhausted. He had chased the terrorist for about an hour or two after which he returned to the village which took equally long. He felt hatred at the thought of the insane murderers. This hatred fueled his desire to stand up and pursue the terrorist, but it was not enough. His legs were completely paralysed. A tear ran down his face as his animosity for the terrorists turned into remorse for his dead family. They were so helpless, especially his brother, who was only six, screamed his name before being shot through the head. He lay there thinking of his deceased family, and feeling that now he would truly be on his own.
His attention turned towards survival, he started looking back and forth for supplies.
After looking around he spotted a shed about 50 meters from the village. Fortunately, it had not been found by the raiders. The door opened with a silent creek and a cloud of dust. He took a few careful steps towards a drawer and with a quick motion of his hands pulled it open. Surprisingly, he found a machete, a first aid kit and a bag. He opened another drawer and found more supplies. Everything that he found he stored in the bag. After 15 minutes of gathering supplies, in which he found an old tent, a sleeping bag and some stakes, he left the dust covered cabin, Confident of what he would do next.
The small river flowed peacefully and steadily. The river, along with trees containing fruits were a very attractive sight and a perfect place to set up camp. Naturally, Andreas was drawn to this opportunity and decided to set up camp immediately. The ground was damp and moist and it was hard to place the stakes in the ground. However, after a few attempts he finally hammered the first stake in the ground. The next stakes were inserted just as easily. As he did this his eyes fell upon two steep hills not too far away. After he had set up camp he lay down on the muddy floor. His mind sank into thought as his body slowly sank into the mud.
Andreas was awoken from his trance-like state by the sound of his stomach grumbling. I need food he thought. He suddenly only thought of one thing, food. He struggled to get up as his feet and legs were slightly stuck in the mud. With a slow motion of his hand he grabbed the machete. He was both excited and afraid at the thought of using his newfound weapon. he tighten his grip on his knife when he saw a rabbit closeby. He crouched and took a few light steps towards the rabbit. The rabbit sensed Andreas’ presence. The rabbit started turning it’s head anxiously. Now’s my chance Andreas thought and he lunged for the rabbit. Andreas missed by a few centimeters and the rabbit ran away quickly. Andreas was furious. He stood up and sprinted towards the rabbit, but the rabbit was fast. Andreas sprinted as fast as he could and once he was a few feet away Andreas sprung forwards and with a violent stab plunged the machete into the rabbit. Bright red blood squirted from the rabbit’s body. Andreas grinned at the sight of his killing. He picked up the rabbit slowly as it twitched for the last time.
The rabbit grew a beautiful crust over the roasting fire. The taste of food brought happiness to Andreas’ clouded feelings. Unfortunately, the rabbit attracted more than Andreas had predicted. The lovely smell of roasted rabbit made its way to a cave hidden in the mountains. The smell entered the nostrils of a sleeping coyote. The coyote opened his eyes and stood up; it was hungry. Andreas heard a silent growl in the distance. He stood up and checked around the camp. When he was reassured everything was safe he sat down and continued eating his food. Suddenly, a coyote ambushed him from behind. It plunged it’s claws into Andreas’ stomach. Andreas’ screamed in agony. He quickly reached for his machete but the coyote bit his arm. Andreas screamed again. He felt a growing rage inside him. With a rageful, strong push he threw the coyote off of him. He jumped up, grabbed his machete, and sprinted away. The coyote pursued Andreas but it was distracted by the rabbit still at the camp. Andreas jumped into the river closeby. As he was pulled away by the flow and his machete slipped out of his hand. Andreas struggled to swim to the shore but the current was too strong and it pulled him further and further away from the shore. He made one last effort but his head it a tiny rock and everything went black.
Light returned to Andreas’ eyes and he woke to a dim sun close to the west. Suddenly, he saw flashes of what had happened before hand. It’s almost sundown! he thought to himself as he tried jumping up. His mind spunned from the concussion he had, but he ignored it. He looked around him for some form of protection. Nothing he thought but from the corner of his hand he saw a something shining in the dark yellow sand. “My machete!” he shouted as he ran towards it. His head was still spinning and tripped. I can’t do it he thought. He kept this thought with him for a few moments. I have to try again. Now! he thought. He struggled to stand up. This time he took smaller, easier steps. He crouched down and picked up his blade. It had been damaged slightly but was still in good condition. Where am I? he wondered. He recognised his position when he saw to steep hills up ahead. He had seen them earlier while setting up camp. He suddenly realised that his camp must be that direction. He sighed as he realised that he would have to make the walk and get to his camp before the sun passed by the two mountains in the West. After Which the sun would be blocked and he would have no chance of returning home safely.
The walk was long and Andreas estimated that it took about an hour. When he arrived at his camp it had been scavenged by the coyote. Everything was a mess. Andreas fell to the ground. His wound was stinging badly. He looked around for his first aid kit. “Thank god” he thought when he saw it lying under his nearly destroyed tent. He ran towards it keeping in mind not to trip. He opened it and took out the disinfectant. He sprayed it over his giant cut and took out a bandage. He carefully wrapped it around his wound. In the distance he saw the sun setting and he grabbed out his sleeping bag. He lay down into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes.
“Wake up son, wake up!” a voice in the darkness whispered. Andreas was confused.
“Mom, is that you?” Andreas asked sleepily
“Yes child, it’s me, you have done well. I’m proud of you”
“Mom, I miss you”
“I know son, but you must accept our demise”
“But mom, please come back”
“I can’t son, it’s too late”
“No!”
“Yes Andreas, good luck. You can do it”
The voice disappeared and a silent tear ran down Andreas’ face.
“Goodbye,mom”
Andreas closed his eyes again and he calmed down. Silently, he made his prayer, before falling asleep.
NS
My memory
The death and The rebirth
Although after 30 years, I still remember that day, that night, that moon. My dear readers, now I am going to show you my secret story which is bloody, exciting and contains REBIRTH.
A huge bear was running behind me, I ran as quickly as I could. You know it is really important for a hungry bear to get something to eat in the foreboding forest. Unluckily, I would be its prey, it was really a terrifying hunter. I could believe it is one of the most bloody hunters in the world. At that moment, I felt death close to me, I could even hear the sound of my body breaking by this black animal’s mouth. Oh! My god, please help me. This sentence appeared in my brain again and again.
Who could believe that 10 hours ago I was sitting in front of the TV while enjoying my holiday in Russia. Even I can’t believe, but it really happened.
“008, I told you I would kill you someday. Unbelievable, that it is today”, a man with black mask took a gun from his jacket. It was an AK47, cold and bloody.
“No I am not 008, I just a usual girl” I said.
“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted rudely, “I know who you are, look at this photo!”
An unnamed fear came to my heart, I didn’t know why. On the photo, there is a girl with black narrow clothing. She takes on an AK47 to a someone’s head.
“it’s not mine, trust me, I … I promise.” I had really no idea about why that image was so familiar to me.
Suddenly all the world become dark, It seems like I have already died. Quiet, quiet, very quiet, only the sound of leaves.
“Wake up”
Leaves, is this the paradise or a forest? I have no answer,
“008, I know you are waking up now. I tell you death cannot effect anything, it even cannot reduce the hating from me to you. I want you get the same pain as my brother. You will know hopeless and fear is worse than death.”
The last sentence from him, I could hear is : “Enjoy, I have prepared for today for a very long time.”
Newton's First Law : Any object remains stationary state or uniform motion until the force by force it to other objects to change this state.
If I only used one word to explain the situation of me, then it would be “fall”. Ja, that’s right fall. By listening the sounds of the wind, I could know I was pushed by that ugly “badass”. There were other 10 things which accompany with me by him. The most funny thing in my brain is was thinking about Newton’s First Law and consider whether I was in balance. However I fell on the ground. Until now, I believe it wasn’t a dream, because of a misunderstanding I have to come to this unknown and dangerous forest for survival.
No time for me to complain, the world will never stop autobiography because of someone. Everything should follow their rules then go ahead, nobody can prevent the natural regulation. Now there are ten things accompany.
AQ
The Snowy Forest And Its Deadly Side
The cold wind flew over his body as he exited the van. He thought about the problems he was running away from as he stomped through the thick snow. He thought about how his father and brother beat him up, how he got bullied in school. But now he could become a different Lyon, a better one.
Lyon gathered some branches on the way for a fire to warm him in the cold nights. He stopped in front of the sign that had addressed the forests location. 50 more meters and he would be alone for a time, not even he could predict. Lyon stopped and clutched onto his huge black backpack. He took a deep breath and entered the forest.
It wasn’t as snow covered as he had imagined it, but it was very cold. The dark trees led into endless darkness. Lyon’s heart raced. Should I have done this?, he questioned.
He started walking faster, trying to forget about the stress filled in his whole body. He was breathing heavy and his muscles were tensed, he just couldn’t relax.
After a while of stomping through the forest he took his backpack off and rested against a tree. He pushed the snow away from the ground with his gloves and let himself glide down the trunk of the tree until he was completely sitting down. Lyon closed his eyes and rested his head on his shoulder. He smelled the wet dirt and he heard a few birds singing in the distance. He took his glove off and felt the ground, cold and wet snow that dissolved when you force it together.
The cold never bothered Lyon, he actually was quite fond of it. The only challenge in the forest for him was not having anyone to rely on, except for him and his instincts. Lyon decided to take a short cut to his destination where he wanted to set up his camp. It involved crossing a massive river, but luckily two boats were located there. Lyon indeed had done some research about the forest, he also knew that there were way more undiscovered places in it than it said in the article.
Lyon reached the hill where the river was located behind it. A smile formed on his face. Lyon had hope, he knew he could make it. But that hope soon vanished.
His heart stopped the second he caught sight of the river, it was frozen! The boats were no use now and Lyon didn't have an idea what to do. He made his way down the hill leading towards the river and pushed his backpack on the ice to see if it was safe. Nothing. It must be safe. Lyons thought was meant to comfort him, but that failed. He unhurriedly placed the first foot on the ice. He repeated with the rest of his body, so slow like time was losing speed. He was still in a crouch position, soon went into a standing position. Then, Crack. Lyon’s heart raced, he didn’t know what to do. Should he run? Or should he stand on the spot? He decided to run, if he would fall into the water, he wouldn’t have had to far to swim. Lyon raced over the dissolving ice. All of the frozen part of the river behind him was already gone, turned into small chunks of ice drifting in the water. He had a head-to-head race with the breaking ice. Suddenly, the ground under him became less solid, he felt how bitterly cold water filled his boots. The second he had been completely in the water, panic filled his mind.
,,No! Help!’’ He shouted, hoping that somebody, anybody, would save him. But Lyon was alone.
Somehow, he was able to fight the strong water. He swallowed a lot of water while heading towards land. He hysterically moved his arms and feet to keep him warm and to make him move. Finally, Lyon reached the other side of the river and pulled himself onto the ground. He fell onto his back and gasped.
,,NOOOOO!’’, he shouted smashing his fists on the ground, causing some birds flee out of the tree next to him.
Lyon got back up after calming down a little. With a slow pace, he marched towards his destination, the place where he would set up his camp. Easier said than done. Every step hurt, every time he set foot on the ground, Lyon felt his hope die.
Somehow he made it to his camp, and set it up as fast as his body would let him. At nightfall Lyon changed into the spare clothes he brought and huddled up in his sleeping bag. He pressed his face against the soft covers, trying to relax. The eager and passionate personality he had as he entered the forest disappeared, leaving a helpless man arguing with the thought to live.
TH
The Survival
The vantage point from which I was viewing winter was an uncommon one. You see, at that time I was in a space shuttle, conducting research. It’s a truly humbling experience, looking at the Earth from space and seeing parts of it slowly change seasons was marvelous indeed. I saw, over the course of many days as patches of green seamlessly turned into patches of white. It was hard to imagine that some people, might have at one point of time been down there, enjoying the winter snow. The subject I was conducting research on was, as was colloquially known, a “newbie”. He had just started his Survival, which would last for the foreseeable future (not that it would be very long). The purpose of the research was to determine the improvements that could be made to the latest model of “The Carnivore”, a machine designed to hunt down its pre-destinated target. However, expensive research had to be funded and to get public interest, they had also made it their point to make the show entertaining, so they had decided to make sure that the subject had a slightly higher chance of surviving by allowing him/her to carry 10 items that he/she thought might be important for survival.
The subject, certainly not a dim-witted fellow, started to find a flat piece of ground on an elevated surface, the sort of place, he thought, would be ideal for his camp. He knew that he did not have to worry about “The Carnivore” until the next day. He found his ideal place soon enough and swiftly started to set up his tent and he, certainly not unskilled at practical activities such as that, did it quite quickly. He had made sure that his camp was next to a stream, perhaps because he had a fishing rod with him and perhaps also because of his limited understanding of the full destructive potential of the masterpiece of a machine that was “The Carnivore”, did not know that water did not in any way hinder “The Carnivore” from getting to its victim. He then started to organize his blankets and clothes in an organized manner, after which he started gathering firewood in a way which suggested that he did not really know how to set up a fire and I wondered if he would even survive the night. However the subject, resourceful as he was, finally had a blazing fire in front of his tent, safe, safe from the feeling of stupidity that is, in the knowledge that “The Carnivore” would find him even without a beacon as visible as a fire. He then started to eat the meagre supply of food which he had brought with him, postponing the fishing for tomorrow. He then slept unusually peacefully for someone who knew that he would meet a gruesome demise tomorrow. No attempt had been made to fashion a primitive weapon, no traps had been made, no attempt to build a boat to attempt an escape from “The Carnivore”, all of which had been attempts made by previous, now dead, “newbies”. I mused if he had a plan to survive at all and then excitedly rubbed my hands together. Tomorrow’s “Chase” would surely be exciting to watch.
The morning passed uneventfully enough, the subject began to fish and had even caught some fish, when he suddenly changed his course of action and began to make a trap, a primitive trap, which by the look of it, was designed to lead “The Carnivore” to the stream and then drown it (what naivety!). He caught many fish and was cooking them over a fire, when for some unexplainable reason, he suddenly became exceedingly alert. I for one knew that “The Carnivore” was nearby, but how did he know? After all, “Carnivore” was no hulking brute. It was truly remarkable. He, coming from a poor family, was probably an experienced hunter, I wondered how many half cooked carcasses of animals he had eaten in his life time. “His teeth really must stink.” I thought. I then took a piece of chocolate cake and proceeded to eat it, watching the scene with the utmost attention. “The Carnivore” (oh what a masterpiece!) appeared before the subject; it towered over him and yet, he was not frightened. He held his spear up bravely and then began to run away from the machine. “The Carnivore” glowered at him and then after analyzing the risk of chasing him (the algorithm for which, might I add, I had written myself), it began to chase him (it was much faster than him, obviously). He ran with a stamina never before perceived in any of the other Survivals (I could almost “hear” the audience’s cheers), outpacing “The Carnivore” for quite some time. “The Carnivore” could have of course, at any time, blown him off the face of the Earth with a missile, or killed with any other projectile, but it had been decided that if “The Carnivore” were to do that, the “Chase” would not be entertaining enough. I was watching, my eyes transfixed on the screen, when suddenly, the unthinkable happened, he had succeeded in distracting it and because of that it had gotten caught in the trap. I covered my face with my hands. This was too embarrassing. What could be more embarrassing than a peasant getting the better of a state of the art machine. I watched, as “The Carnivore” abruptly tumbled forward into the river, it was not hurt, of course, but severely delayed. It was, however, still withdrawn from the arena, just in case it had somehow sustained injuries. He had lived his second day.
NM