They say we all have a beast contaminated in our souls but the beast can come out, like William Golding said, “Evil is written inside of us and society is the only thing that can keep it in.” Nothing can stop it. Basically Good vs Evil, however evil can sometimes overtake.
Streaming tears cleansed her red, wind-slapped cheeks. Few droplets remained, forgetting their way as the path was swept from beneath them, consequently blurring Rachel’s vision with waves of sadness only the broken encounter. The salty release calmly flowed into her mouth so that she could taste her own sorrow.
Questions blundered her brain; “Why didn’t I listen?”, “Why didn’t I stay put?”.
Bitter. Unforgiving. Pain.
She cried out for help, just for a sign someone was there for her, but the whimper was slowly lost in the thinning air. Freshness was a novelty as nothing was fresh in her mind.
Charlie searched through the blaring sunlight, Where could she be? Why did she run when I told her not to? Idiots will always be idiots.
“I want to explore,” sarcastically squealed Charlie as he searched for her.
The winded Forest made room for Rachel to walk through. Charlie barked her name repeatedly as she tried to search for him. Looking back Rachel couldn’t see him, but the ears do not lie. She knew she had at least a few drips of hope. She ran while the wind slapped her cheeks, the trees made way for her as they pointed towards safety.
The rain chucked down on Rachel’s aching body, finding a large willow tree, she hugged her knees closer to her face. Closing her eyes, Rachel spoke to the forest softly, “ I can’t take this anymore.” His barks waded through the forest, the branches pointed towards a crinkling sound.
There are some funny things about the forest: nothing can be revealed, NOTHING because the forest is a place in which everything can and will turn into your enemy.
Bitter gusts ripped at her clothing. The wind penetrated the polyester fibres which absurd ease and every drop of icy rain soaked through the instant of its impact. Rachel’s body heat didn’t do so much as drain away or leach out slowly, it abandoned her with callous speed to leave her helpless and shivering too violently to flee.
When she began to cry the tear left frozen track marks on her face and they would have gone with anyone who promised them warmth, even if it meant captivity again. Rachel’s dainty slippers were caked in mud and the storm had battered her jet black hair into a tangled mess.
“Charlie, help me...please,” Rachel whispered in raspy breaths, no words could form this situation, “I’m sorry.”