Contributor: Jessica Morrow
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There’s a scream, a shudder and a quick jolt.
She’s in trouble, and my only thought is that I have to help her. But where is she? She can’t be gone too far. I’d only seen her half an hour ago.
I wish my dad was here, or my friends from school. They’d be far more useful than me right now. I’m worthless. I have to be. How else can I not be able to help her?
I try to make my way through the darkness, wishing for the clarity so many people took for granted. I would do anything for it. I'd be able to save her!
But here I am, as useless as ever.
The screams begin again. This time it’s closer, and my heart begins to pound.
I find myself leaning down, not by my own control. I feel excitement, and I’m confused as to why I feel it. I’m scared! I want her to be safe, free from the evil in this house, but here I am, excited. What was going on?
With my knees sinking down onto what feels like carpet, I place my hands in front of me and feel through the air.
After a moment, they touch something solid.
My heartbeat dies instantly, but I feel myself continuing to breathe, excitedly, jaggedly.
She gives a choked whimper as I touch her lightly.
That’s the moment I realise something is up. Why am I not trying to save her?
Why am I moving in such slow motion? I’m taking an eon, an eternity, to move closer to her. I try to hurry up, but I can’t. It’s like I’m not even controlling my own body, like this is some sort of sick dream.
And I can’t even save her.
I lean down, and her breath fans into my face. I try to scream to her, 'I’m here to save you, mum', but no words come out.
I’m confused.
My own breath becomes ragged, and her breathing dies down. She begins to shake, but I find myself holding her in place. I wonder why on earth I did that. I’d never want to hurt her. Why was this…?
Mum? I try to ask again, but yet again, my voice escapes me. A barrage of thoughts assaults my mind, and I’m taken aback. It’s like it isn’t even me thinking anymore…
At the thought of that, a few things click into place.
What, I think nervously, irrationally. What if it actually isn’t…?
There’s a sudden flash of light, and I’ve grabbed something previously unthought-of out of my pocket. I’m about to place it – 'no, mum, I don’t want to hurt you, I just want to hurt you' - when suddenly a voice screams out, as light floods through the room. It’s oddly familiar, far too familiar.
“Mum!” the voice of the boy screams as he leaps towards me.
I lose my grip on reality. That boy, he can’t be, it can’t possibly be.
He pushes her – mum – to the side as he makes his way for… No way, it can’t be true, this can’t be happening.
I’ve never been hurt before, not seriously. Once, I almost broke my knee climbing a tree at my uncle’s place when I was four, but nothing like this.
I’m the man, I’m the child. It doesn't matter to me. I’m both. And I’m saving her.
I’m not as useless as I thought.
I don’t even know if I’ll survive, but at least I’m saving her.
That ought to count for something, right?
“Eli, son?” she whispers, as darkness overcomes me.
- - -
Jessica Morrow is an emerging writer and second year Bachelor of Arts (Professional and Creative Writing) student at Deakin University in Geelong, Australia. Inspired by the works of authors such as Suzanne Collins and George Orwell, Jessica likes to strike a balance between literary and genre fiction in her writing. Hopefully, this inspires more people to read.
- -
There’s a scream, a shudder and a quick jolt.
She’s in trouble, and my only thought is that I have to help her. But where is she? She can’t be gone too far. I’d only seen her half an hour ago.
I wish my dad was here, or my friends from school. They’d be far more useful than me right now. I’m worthless. I have to be. How else can I not be able to help her?
I try to make my way through the darkness, wishing for the clarity so many people took for granted. I would do anything for it. I'd be able to save her!
But here I am, as useless as ever.
The screams begin again. This time it’s closer, and my heart begins to pound.
I find myself leaning down, not by my own control. I feel excitement, and I’m confused as to why I feel it. I’m scared! I want her to be safe, free from the evil in this house, but here I am, excited. What was going on?
With my knees sinking down onto what feels like carpet, I place my hands in front of me and feel through the air.
After a moment, they touch something solid.
My heartbeat dies instantly, but I feel myself continuing to breathe, excitedly, jaggedly.
She gives a choked whimper as I touch her lightly.
That’s the moment I realise something is up. Why am I not trying to save her?
Why am I moving in such slow motion? I’m taking an eon, an eternity, to move closer to her. I try to hurry up, but I can’t. It’s like I’m not even controlling my own body, like this is some sort of sick dream.
And I can’t even save her.
I lean down, and her breath fans into my face. I try to scream to her, 'I’m here to save you, mum', but no words come out.
I’m confused.
My own breath becomes ragged, and her breathing dies down. She begins to shake, but I find myself holding her in place. I wonder why on earth I did that. I’d never want to hurt her. Why was this…?
Mum? I try to ask again, but yet again, my voice escapes me. A barrage of thoughts assaults my mind, and I’m taken aback. It’s like it isn’t even me thinking anymore…
At the thought of that, a few things click into place.
What, I think nervously, irrationally. What if it actually isn’t…?
There’s a sudden flash of light, and I’ve grabbed something previously unthought-of out of my pocket. I’m about to place it – 'no, mum, I don’t want to hurt you, I just want to hurt you' - when suddenly a voice screams out, as light floods through the room. It’s oddly familiar, far too familiar.
“Mum!” the voice of the boy screams as he leaps towards me.
I lose my grip on reality. That boy, he can’t be, it can’t possibly be.
He pushes her – mum – to the side as he makes his way for… No way, it can’t be true, this can’t be happening.
I’ve never been hurt before, not seriously. Once, I almost broke my knee climbing a tree at my uncle’s place when I was four, but nothing like this.
I’m the man, I’m the child. It doesn't matter to me. I’m both. And I’m saving her.
I’m not as useless as I thought.
I don’t even know if I’ll survive, but at least I’m saving her.
That ought to count for something, right?
“Eli, son?” she whispers, as darkness overcomes me.
- - -
Jessica Morrow is an emerging writer and second year Bachelor of Arts (Professional and Creative Writing) student at Deakin University in Geelong, Australia. Inspired by the works of authors such as Suzanne Collins and George Orwell, Jessica likes to strike a balance between literary and genre fiction in her writing. Hopefully, this inspires more people to read.
Author:
Jessica Morrow
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