To a Worse Person

It felt like her lungs were on fire, but she couldn’t stop or slow down. Sylvia escaped through the forest. The men who had invaded her home were shouting orders to find her.

The lights of society faded fast.

She tore through brush, ignoring their whipping branches. The ice on the ground did little to numb the sting of glass in her feet. Once she was safe, she could take care of that. For now she needed to push through the pain.

Her legs were quickly getting heavy. Why’d she have to let herself get out of shape? She knew this would happen eventually, but she thought that she had more time.

The sharp point of a stick stabbed up to the tender part of her foot. She had to cover her mouth to hide the noises she wanted to make. She held the kitchen knife tighter. Grateful she had managed to grab it. She barely escaped out the kitchen window.

She didn’t have a plan. No idea where she was going. Her goal was to hide in the woods until they gave up. It shouldn’t be that difficult. No one knew these woods like she did.

The sounds of heavy boots were closing in on her. She risked a glance back. Flashlights danced

Crack.

Her left foot found a raised root. Her body found the ground. She lay there, stunned. For a moment she hoped that the sound was from a broken branch. The pain came slowly, like her body was in denial about its damage.

Boots crashed past her, continuing on into the forest.

Sylvia waited to see if there were any more, but there was nothing but the sound of boots vanishing into the distance.

She sat up and pulled her injured leg towards her. Her body fully woke up and the pain hit all at once. Sylvia screamed before she could hold back.

The boots stopped. She closed her eyes and prayed that they’d think it’s a cougar. Maybe they will go right past her. The boots were coming back. Towards her.

She crawled away. Her lame leg dragged behind her. She bit her lip to keep herself from screaming again.

There was a rock a little to the right of this tree. She used to hide under this rock as a child. She knew that her children liked to play under it as well. They used it to hide all the things they think she doesn’t know about.

She was just a few feet away from the large rock when she found herself in their spotlight. A pair of boots attached to a huge black mass of a man. So far it was just one of them, the other one was searching in the other direction.

“Let go of the knife,” He demanded.

Sylvia turned around to face him. She held her knife out, a quiet but frantic warning. He took a step forward, she crawled further back. She couldn’t see what he had in his hand, but she was sure it was a gun.

“Drop the knife, now!” The gun was aimed at her.

A few more inches and she could feel the rough stone against her back. She kept her eyes on him, waiting for the moment that she could escape. She couldn’t see his eyes but she could feel his gaze. He took another step forward.

“Drop the knife.”

She reached a hand out, searching for the gap under the rock. It was small, a very tight squeeze for an adult. She knew she could fit, but she wasn’t sure if she could do it under pressure.

Once her hand found that empty space, she started inching closer towards it. The gun fired. It didn’t hit her. A warning shot.

“Don’t move. Drop the knife and surrender.”

She found something solid. It wasn’t a rock, but hopefully the clump of dirt would be enough. The other boots were coming towards her. She didn’t have much time.

Her aim was good. The man with the gun backed off a few feet, the light was off her for a few seconds, but that was all she needed.

She had to army crawl to get through the gap. There was barely enough space to breathe. She couldn’t get through as fast as she would have liked.

He grabbed her broken leg and began pulling her out. There was nothing to grab onto as she slid over the ice. Her grip tightened on her knife as she pushed herself the rest of the way out.

The lack of resistance knocked him over. She wasn’t going to give him time to think. She clawed her way on top of him, her knife stabbing every spot she could find until she reached his neck.

His partner was almost there. The man gladly gave up his gun. His hands went to his throat to stop the bleeding.

With a gun in one hand and a knife in the other, she tried getting under the rock again.

Before she could get into the safe darkness, she found herself in another spotlight.

“Stop,” The other one commanded.

She aimed at the other gun and shot. The bullet didn’t hit, but the man ran for cover. She had the chance she was waiting for.

As she crawled under the rock, the other one was calling for back up on the radio. She had escaped, but they knew where she was.

Under the rock was a small cave partially made from water runoff and partially dug out by the children over the years. Deep enough to let her stand if she wanted.

She dropped down to the bottom. Small, icy forms broke her fall. It was too dark to see, but she knew what they were by touch. Still here.

Light cut in through the gap. More heavy boots stomped around. More guns. More men.

They spoke in frantic voices, making plans on how to get her out. They wanted to get heavy machinery to lift the rock. They wanted to destroy her children’s favorite place.

“Don’t worry, sweeties, I’ll protect you,” She whispered to the sleeping forms of the cave.

She stood up, using the crumbling dirt side for balance. The gap didn’t allow her to see that much, but it was enough.

Three shots. One of them hit their mark. Not well enough because the man was still alive. The others returned gunfire.

There were too many of them and she had no idea how many bullets she had. How many bullets does this thing have? How many were in it before she got it?

Maybe it doesn’t matter. As long as there is still one left, that’s all she needed. Her hope for a peaceful like was long gone. Maybe it was time.

“Don’t worry babies,” She whispered to the cave, “I’ll be seeing you soon.”

The gun shot silenced the team. For a few seconds there was just deadly quiet. They waited for more shots, but there was nothing.

“Did she kill herself?” One of the police officers asked.

“She must have,” another said.

“See if you can lift that rock,” the Commander ordered.

Four men went to the rock. It wouldn’t budge at first, but then it started to shift. Several other officers stood by with weapons drawn in case she came out shooting.

They only needed to move it a few feet to see the gruesome results.

At first all they could see was blood. Her blood and brains had coated most of the small space. Some of the officers relaxed and lowered their weapons, but others saw the horror beneath the blood.

“I thought only four children were missing,” One of them said.

“Jesus Christ, how many are down there?”

“Did she really kill all of them?”

“Everyone, back off! This is a crime scene now.” The Commander looked down at the piles of small, frozen bodies and the suspect’s corpse on top of them.

“Couldn’t have happened to a worse person,” he whispered to himself.