A flicker of lights appeared through the dense fog as the small child heaved her way across the slough, growing more and more weary with each exaggerated trudge. The bottom of her faded blue dress and petticoat were dampened by the putrid swamp water and held a smell foul enough to make a person cringe. Her hair which once fell in loose blonde, almost white curls down her shoulders was now plastered to her pale face with ice cold droplets of rain and her blue eyes, so pale and vivid now overflowed with tears of exhaustion.
With one last haul, the young girl weakly managed to drag herself onto muddy terrain which unluckily for her, was no better than trudging through the bog; and as she stood in the pouring rain it took a few minutes for the small child to gather her emotions and her motivation to keep on going. She finally carried on; the mud beginning to squealch under her once pristine white socks. She felt it seeping through and inbetween her toes as she edged closer and closer towards the light.
The first thing that came into view was a rather large wooden sign with chipped, black painted writing which was rather messily scrawled. She could not even begin to decode whatever was written on that sign and due to exhaustion gave up rather quickly.
Through the mist a large, red brick building appeared. It wasn't your average house, it was like a mansion but more sinister looking. She chewed on her bottom lip anxiously as she made her way slowly towards it.
This would be here safety, this is where she would hide. Perhaps she could rest easy away from those who were chasing her, away from the flashes of lighting they struck at her from the wooden sticks they held. What had she done to deserve this? She was only a girl.
Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes darted around the outside of the large, eerie building. Half of the windows on this side of the building had been smashed out and large shards of glass laid scattered around the concrete underneath the window sills. As she approached she peered inside one of the ground floor windows.
The place looked empty but as she stood silent she could hear the creaking of floorboards echo around the room giving her the sense that people were inhabiting the place. Placing her small hands upon the windowsill, she pulled herself up and over it until she was standing on both feet at the other side.
A gasp of pain escaped from her mouth as she looked down at her hand which now had crimson lines of blood dripping down it, staining her white sleeves. The window was not as it seemed and still contained broken shards of glass. She tried to wipe her wound on her dress but that did not stop the bleeding. After ripping some fabric from her apron she began to bandage her hand when the noise of a door creaking open stopped her dead in her tracks.
The wind. It must have been the wind. She stared into the dark room. The wild beasts they chased her with, they might smell it. They might smell her blood. She wasn't safe here. Too many thoughts were running through her head as she dropped to the floor on the other side of the window that she didn't hear the faint howling which echoed through the distant forests.
Dust rose like a cloud around her from the floor boards which she sat on. The young girl rubbed her small hands against her dress in a desperate attempt to wipe the sticky, red blood from them.
The scenery had changed so quickly from that very morning. Just hours ago she had sat in her suburban garden celibrating her thirteenth birthday with her small family, blowing out the candles on her cake. The bite on her leg had finally began to heal and the terrible memories of the rabid dog attack just two weeks before had began to fade from her mind with distractions, but now she was running for her life in unknown wilderness, she could not help but think that things would never be the same again.
The silence was broken by a faint humming noise which gradually became louder as the seconds ticked by, finally accompanied by the noise of feet in the swamp. Humming? No, it was humming, it was voices.
She could not move, she could not run, she could not breathe. She was frozen with panic and fear, her eyes wide. Kicking her heels into the wooden floor, she slid herself backwards a few inches underneath the windowsill, her hands darting to her mouth to conceal her deep, panting breaths. Stones were crunching underfoot along with the quiet murmers of male voices.
"She's got to be 'ere somewhere." Closer and closer the voices came until the young girls teeth began to chatter in fear. With her body tense and rigid, she sat unable to move. "How'd we lose a little girl anyway?" The gruff voice scoffed. She knew they were staring inside of the exact window she hid under. Her hands were shaking, threatening to break her silence, threatening to take in the breath of fresh air her lungs yearned for.
"Come on." Footsteps, gravel crunching, they were walking away, but that is when it slipped out. It was not a squeal, it was more a quiet whimper, but as soon as the footsteps stopped on the pathway, she knew they had heard her.
A deafening crack suddenly errupted throughout the room which dazed the young girl, her ears bursting with the after ring of the loud noise. A man appeared infront of her as if magic, and then suddenly another crack. Two men. No three men now stood in the room. Her whimpering was now uncontrollable, fear coarsing through her body forcing her to shake. They came for her, arms stretched forward, a short wooden stick in the other, grabbing at her.
Crack.
The room stood empty, particles of dust slowly falling to the wooden floor which no longer creaked under footsteps. The rugged, moss eaten curtains drifted gently in the breeze coming in from the broken window. The lone mansion in the middle of the forest was left abandoned once more, the doors creaking slowly in the wind, uninterrupted.