When The Trail Ends

How long have I been running, anyway? I feel like I’ve been wondering for years. All I know is I can’t look back. What am I running for? The weight of my feet has been getting gradually heavier, the air in my lungs burns, and finally, I reached the limits of my stamina.

Lying face-first on a beaten trail, I’m reminded of the gritty texture accompanying the taste of dirt. I roll onto my back, dirtying my white T-shirt I notice the world around me. It’s spring! The birds are chirping, the trees are budding, and the earth is damp from previous rainfall. My heartbeat finally settles down as I take deep breaths, in, out, in, out. I lay here in bliss catching my breath for what felt like an eternity. Then I remembered something, wasn’t I running a second ago? I can’t remember why. How long was I running for? Where even am I? I looked around the woods puzzled, confused about how I got here, wondering which way I came from or where I was heading. I do however remember falling, and I fell in the direction I was running. I stand up, dust off my shirt as best as possible, and start jogging down this beaten trail.

The world is getting greener with each step I take. Every step forward I notice something grow in the place of the old. The budding trees quickly turn green as I jog past- their leaves growing, the weeds, shrubs, and flora sprouting from the forest floor as insects long sleeping awake and begin their life cycles anew. I watch as squirrels scurry up trees from my mere presence. Ahead of me- down the trail, the trees separate and light beams down on the trail. As I enter the sun’s gaze, its warmth caresses my skin, and I close my eyes halting my steps, basking in the warmth. How long has it been since I last felt this? Since I last took the time to appreciate this? As I open my eyes I notice why the sun is creeping its gaze on the trail, an old oak has toppled over and lies a ways away from the edge of the trail. An eerie sight catches my eye as well. A man almost as old as the oak sits atop it. My stomach sinks as I notice his presence. He seems overdressed for the weather, not that I have room to judge, I’m in a dirty white T-shirt, shorts, and sneakers. The old man sitting atop the fallen tree tilts the cane in his hand as he nods his head to me in greeting.

“You running too?” A raspy voice erupts from the old man.

“Too?” I question, staring at the cane in his hand.

“Yes. Too.” He states with conviction, “Not everyone started running at the same time, or place. But we all run from the same thing.”

I look around me perplexed by the situation, wondering what this old man is blabbering about. He scoffed, “Bah, I’m done with running, I forget why I even ran in the first place, and you clearly don’t get it yet.”

His last words caught my attention, what caused me to run? Why was I running? Am I just a health nut trying to get fit?

“If you don’t mind me asking, Sir, why did you stop running?” I question.

“I no longer care to. I shall welcome whatever made us start running, so I’ll wait.” He says, contorting his mustache as he smiles.

“I don’t know why I’m running either, but I know there was a reason. For that, I’ll keep running.” I tell the old man as I start to jog back down the trail away from him.

“Don’t burn yourself out! It’s okay to walk!” I hear the Old Man shout one last word of wisdom. I dare not look back at him, my fear keeping me in check, I simply wave my hand up as a farewell.

As I jog, the air becomes heavier and hotter, and the sun rays peeking through the trees are scorching. I stop my jog to catch my breath. The trail path has become cracked and dry, most likely by the sun. The trees are in full bloom, the weeds and shrubs up to my knees in some spots. My shirt sticks to me like a second skin, the buzzing of cicadas drowns out all sounds except the wind. As the buzzing dies down I hear footsteps behind me, far away at first, but gently they get closer and closer. I dare not turn around in fear, my breath caught in my throat, too afraid to break into a sprint I freeze up. The steps sound like someone is sprinting down the dry dirt behind me.

“Move outta the way!” I hear behind me in a panicky squeaky tone.

My body instinctively turns around, hands up, ready to stop whoever is charging at me. To my relief, I see a young boy in a sweat-stained red shirt and blue shorts running straight at me. Surprised I tilt my head a bit confused. The boy runs, looking chilled to the bone. A terrified expression on his face as he dashes past me on the trail, I shake my head a couple of times to grasp the situation.

“H-hey! Stop, wait!” I shout out to the boy. However, he continues to run down the trail.I let out a sigh, then broke into a sprint to catch up to the boy. Gasping, I catch up to the young lad. I grab his arm and shout, “Why are you running?”

“The Lady! Didn’t you see her when you turned around? She was right behind me!” He frantically yells- yanking his arm from my hand.

Emotion leaves my face, and the realization hits me. I turned around.

I turned around, but I only saw the boy. Was she there? Do I check now? My heart begins to pound, and my hands clam up. As if in a trance I look over my shoulder

“Don’t look at her!” I hear the boy yell as I turn my gaze behind us. As I turn my gaze, I feel my fear pop like a bubble. I smirked a bit too. There was nothing there, I’m amused by the shadow that haunted me, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“There’s nothing there.” A string of words that fill me with joy, but not to the boy.

“What? No, she was right there!” The boy stunned turns around. “She had black wings and a white dress! She had her arms out, asking me to come to her.” The boy looks around the trail frantically, in disbelief. “No, no! She was right there I saw her!” The boy exclaims pointing down the path.

“A beautiful-sounding woman beckoning me into an embrace? That’s what I’ve been running from?” Upon saying this I burst into a laugh.

“No! You adults never get it! She was right there, you’re wrong!” The boy yells before balling his hand into a fist and turning to run down the trail again.

“Wait, hey! Don’t just run off on your own, boy!” I griped.

Well, I might as well go after him, I don’t want some boy getting lost in the woods now. As I start to jog after the boy he seems to be outpacing me, slowly at first, but as I increase my pace he seems to get further and further away. My stamina catches up to me as I stop, gasping for air, watching as the boy becomes nothing but a red dot down the trail to me, then vanishing behind a bend. How did that kid have so much stamina? I couldn’t keep up. Gasping for air I watch a leaf fall from a tree and float down to earth.

The trail I follow is now almost entirely eaten up by fallen leaves. Each step I take echoes a crunch from the assorted color of leaves under my feet. My hair feels longer than before, and my sweat-crusted hair tickles my forehead. Brushing my hair up or to the side does nothing but coat my hand in a layer of grease, so I’ve chosen to put up with the ticklish feeling. Too tired to run I opted for a walk down the trail instead, which gives me enough time to get lost in thought but makes me rub my arms due to the chill in the air. I wonder if that Old Man found what was chasing us? What caused us to run? If it was the beautiful lady that boy claimed it was. I found them both rather ridiculous though, one so eager to run and get away, and the other too content to press forward. I can’t blame the Old Man, it must have been tough for him to make it this far. Heck, I don’t even know why I’m even marching forward. I don’t have the energy to run, but I know if I stop I won’t want to get up. So why don’t I stop? What am I running for? To get off this trail and go home?

Home… 

I blink a couple of times, trees stand bare, my breath visible with each breath, the forest floor covered in shades of red, yellow, brown, and orange. The only bit of green is in the pine trees which dot the woods. My situation finally dawned on me, I lost the trail. Kicking up the leaves around me I frantically search for a patch of beaten earth, the well-traveled road. I look around, the direction I was walking is flatter than the areas around me, which makes me wonder how long I’ve been off the trail. I turn around, look at the leaves, and can’t even tell which way I walked from. I know I can’t just walk back the way I came, I’ll get more lost. I can’t sit either, if I sit still I’ll end up like the Old Man- at the mercy of whatever is chasing us, clawing after us, creeping ever so forward which makes us run. My heart rate picks up, I now know I must get home, to my beautiful wife, to my son, to grow old with everyone and see them smile one last time! I finally remember, so I must keep moving. With a deep breath that could fog up glasses, I turn around to the flatter earth I was traveling and continue down my trail. As a laugh from mother nature, my eyelashes twitch, a snowflake caught in them.

It’s cold.

I’m cold.

My skin throbs with each chilling breeze the wind throws at me. My once sweaty hair- now frozen stiff from the elements. Flakes flutter down onto the forest floor, and I wander through themaimlessly. Am I walking forward? Or am I walking back? Is whatever I’m running from behind me? Or am I heading straight to it? Asking myself these questions in the deafening silence of the snowfall I feel my heartbeat quicken. I pick up my pace, my eyes darting around the forestlooking for something that might not be there. I stop myself, I’m starting to lose it. I take deep breaths to try and calm down- the air stinging my throat as I do so.

“I’m ahead, I’ve been ahead, it can’t catch up to me. Whoever- no, whatever it is, I’m ahead.” I say in an attempt to reassure myself.

With a deep breath, I look up to the sky- up at the snowflakes falling from the heavens and onto my beat red cheeks.

“I’m still here!” I scream out.

I look behind me as if something will show itself, but I’m alone. I turn back around and continue my march.

The wind has picked up as if toying with me, and the snowfall gets heavier. Each step I make gets heavier and heavier, I feel as if the snow is getting deeper and deeper with every passing step- testing my resilience, and mental fortitude. Is this even the right way? Am I even on the trail? I look back behind me to see my tracks vanish in the snow drift- covered up by the wind- nature herself ensuring I don’t turn back. Not just my steps, but my body feels heavier, I no longer feel the feet I’m moving under me but I attempt to increase my pace nevertheless. Dragging my feet forward I lick my lips to bring some form of moisture back to them- however, they freeze almost instantly. Barely being able to see ten feet ahead of me, I can’t even muster up the strength to raise my steps above the snow to move forward I feel my eyes grow tired, and my knees weaken.

“I must keep moving. This isn’t fast enough! I’m not done yet!” I mutter, before my knees buckle under me and I fall into the snow.

Instead of being cold, the snow feels like a warm blanket, embracing me and suggesting I stayto shield me from the wind.

“Get up!” I hear from a familiar voice.

I raise my face from the snow and look ahead, at a beautiful woman- my wife. She’s in a white dress, her arms open wide. She’s surrounded by lush green flora- the snow melted around her, the trees around her blooming, the air looks so warm, so hospitable. I stand myself up hobblingdragging myself to her. The air feels so warm as I drop to my knees before her. My head hanging low I notice Bloodroot flowers peeking through the decaying leaves. I brush away some leaves, and a black feather to pluck at one of the stems. I look up to her and offer the flower- she takes it and places it behind her ear. I feel her caress my head, running her fingers through my hair. Her touch is like a spark, reigniting me to stand back up. Ready now I open my arms, ready for her sweet embrace.

The End.