Mud on white

Submitted into Contest #50 in response to: Write a story told entirely through one chase scene.... view prompt



This should have been your chance.

It was just a few more seconds and you would have tasted freedom.

And yet, instead of sweet freedom, here you are, running for your life.

It was the perfect opportunity. Her grip was slack, her head turned elsewhere, her eyes for once wasn’t watching your every move. Something had caught her attention. She was distracted. This was your chance, maybe your only chance.

You take it.

You dash through the grass. The feel of the grass and the dirt felt wonderful. It has been so long since you’ve felt this alive. All this new sights, all this new smells, all this new sensations both felt overwhelming and liberating.

They’ve been keeping you in a cage all week. There was not enough room to freely move around it. All you could do was sit or lie down and sleep.

They brought food twice a day, one in the morning and one in the evening. That was all. They do the whole process of giving you your food so quick that there would not be any opportunity for you to even remotely make a run for it. You even had to let out your waste in the cage since they don’t even let you out to do your business.

All you could do, as you watch them go about their day through the bars of the cage, was eat, sleep, eat, sleep, eat, sleep, eat, and sleep.

Today was different. You don’t know why. You don’t know what happened. But today, they decided to let you out.

Just for a few minutes that is. Or that’s what you think so.

She was tasked watch you though. And right now, it seems like she has noticed her negligence and has started searching for you.

The tall grasses provide you with a little bit of cover. The rustle and crunch of leaves underneath her stomping feet could be heard along with the sounds of her shouts as she calls for you.

As she draws nearer to your hiding spot, you make your move. You dash, zigzagging around her and run farther and farther away from being in reaching distance of her grasp.

That’s when you feel it.


You freeze, hoping the beast wont spot you, but still in attention, looking out for the peril that awaits you.

You hear it lowly growl, you ready yourself. Every limb tense, heart pounding, ears pricked for every bit of noise, in waiting, prepared to spring into action, to flee at the first sign of an attack.

The beast pounces.

The chase was on.

What occurs next is a scene so fast that all anyone that happens to be looking will see are two white blurs zigzagging across the field.

You dart to and fro, hoping to lose him. Alas, he is still hot on your trails. And he was catching up.

He was bigger, and maybe faster, a natural born predator. All you could hope to do was out run him or outlast him. This was a fight for survival, a fight for your life. You had to survive this.

 A left feint, sharp right turn, zigzag through the pots, right, another right, a sharp turn to the left, circle a tree, under the bush, right, left, right, left, another left, another sharp right.

You had to evade him, confuse him, just lose him and then find a hiding spot.

Though the pots again, left, right, left, darting through the tall grass, sharp turn right, left, a right feint, another right, a sharp left.

The one assigned to watch you; well she has now joined the fray. You also see another trying to get the beast. Was he with them? It didn’t matter, as far as you knew, they were all out to catch you.

Dart to the left, to the right, around a bush, through the grass, left, then right, another right, left, right, , and on and on and on.

They try their best to stop you both. Their shouts to stop went unheard. But no one could stop this race for survival, not until one surrenders, gets captured, or has successfully escaped. This was nature, no one could stop nature.

And so the chase continued.

They were all hot on your heels. The beast was nearly biting at your ankles at this point. But you are still on the run; you still haven’t been captured yet. There was still a chance.

That was until you made a mistake. It was just one mistake and it was all over.

You don’t see the puddle. The next thing you know, you are slipping into it and white is now stained muddy brown.

The chase is over. What felt like hours of chasing, was actually over in only a few minutes.

The beast catches up, you try kicking and struggling, but he has you by the neck.

Was this your end?

The one assigned to watch you, arrives, and instead of leaving you to your pitiful fate, she and her companion forcefully separates you both. They pry open the beast’s mouth and release you from its fanged jaws.

The next thing you realize is that she has wrapped you in her arms. Your heart is still pounding, or is that hers? You don’t know which one of you is trembling. All you take notice of at the moment is the shaking hand stroking down your back. Words of reassurance and safety pour out from her lips.

Who is she reassuring? Is it you or her? She holds you tighter to her chest. Still frozen in shock, you haven’t moved an inch yet from the time she scooped you in her arms.

You hear sniffling. Is she crying?

She wipes your muddy fur with a towel. Any semblance of you former white coat was gone, it was all muddy brown. She does this until she is satisfied.

Your trembling has reduced a bit at this point.

You feel her stand up and walk to the cage. You know what’s coming.

You guess this was slightly better than getting chased around all the time, at least there was always food.

July 17, 2020 18:59

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Philip Baker
10:42 Jul 25, 2020

This is a brilliant story, mixing the very tough to write "You" narration with an also very hard subject. At least this subject felt quite hard to me. But that was a really nice piece and enjoyed it to the very end.


Clarys J.C.B.
11:25 Jul 28, 2020

Thank you. It really was quite difficult. I'm glad you enjoyed it.


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