Survival

Survival

Nothing could stop my legs, nothing would. I ran non-stop, shadowing the pain in my legs. I looked ahead, spying a forest ready to provide shelter to me, ready to shield me from my fear, from the vicious guards who tortured my soul into shatters of helplessness. As I disappeared into the dense forest of protection, clangorous gunshots could be heard behind, gunshots that meant only one thing. Death. I shook my head, unwilling to accept the fact of death, unwilling to go back and let my only hope wither away like dust. No, I am going to fight to the end. So I run. That's all I do. Run.

After what felt like hours later, I arrived at a hut. A hut like no other. It just sat there unbothered, but the layers of mould and moss clearly stated that it was one house that could not be recovered again. I hesitated, scared to go inside, to go inside what might be a fatal decision or a haven for a desperate person like me. I knew I had no other choice but death, so I opened the door but completely did not expect what I saw. The world I walked into is definitely not the one I imagined. Colours danced across walls, joy bounced out of ceilings. I knew I had to take cover quickly, but I stood rooted, amazed at what beheld in front of me.

It was a whole five minutes later when I snapped back to reality. No, I still have an escape I have to complete. I shook myself out of my imagination, but I still could not move. I knew survival was speaking to me. And I'm choosing not to listen. I have a choice, right? But then a single bullet may have changed my life then. A trickle of blood ran down my face. And then I knew. I knew survival was the key and the last hope. I knew survival was speaking to me. And I have no choice but to listen.

Recommend Write a ReviewReport