Cloudy yet clear, was the wilds as she clears the branches from her sight, so as to see the narrow way. She found herself wandering in the bushes through unknown paths, but determined to know where it led. The pain under her feet had become severe and it was then she stopped for a minute to rub her barefoot. It had turned pinkish-red below her ankle, with slight bruises to the toes. To end her quest at this point was not an option. Determined to see what and who was in the farmhouse, she forges on. It was the little children she saw outside playing that sparked her drive to look further. The road was scary and the breeze cold on her skin, seeing that she was not properly dressed. Underneath the nightgown, Sam was naked, without shoes and hair knotted into a doughnut as though she was going to bed.
When she finally approaches the farmhouse, the children where no longer playing beside the wooden house. This realisation caused her to wonder even more on who they were and why they lived in a house so old and dilapidated. Just as she was about to attempt the stairs, Sam peeks through the open window right next to the door, but there was nothing visible from the point were she stood. Then went on to ascend the squeaky wooden stairs. In fear she gives the door three faint knocks, but the door stood as it was. For over several minutes she stood there tapping her foot.
The anxiety which had engulfed her at this point was far too great for her to proceed on this adventure. So in that moment of unease she decides to leave. Sam slowly turns around, walks down the old wooden stairs carefully and starts tiptoeing away from the house. It was then she heard the high-pitched sound of the door as it opens. In dismay, she turns around in surprise to see an old-skinny man with worn-out cloths standing by the doorway. His grey hair fell on his face, but it was impossible to miss his protruding eyes, which were blood-red. He looked as though he was a zombie.
Just as an intense vision in her eyes, she sees as the grey-haired slowly holds out his left hand. Sticking a crocked finger towards her direction, he slowly but authoritatively beckons on her to come forward. His sharp long and dirty nail, which could not go unnoticed, was as though it was right in her face. Sam didn’t want to go, but her body began to move quickly towards him with her feet elevated above the ground. The magic which zapped her right in front of him was one she could not fight.
The second she found herself in front for him, he instantly grabs her neck with his frail arm, squeezing it tight, tight enough to shut all air circulation. His eyes were angry and his face mean, as he looks deep into her eyes without a word. Sam’s feet was wiggling in the air and body quivered as she struggled with both hands to get his hand off her throat. Realising his grip was as though a solid pillar, “You are going to die” begins to resound in her thoughts over and over again. Death had come, he was waiting at the corner, resting on the wall with hands on his scythe.
As Sam begins to feel empty, week and dying, all she could see was the slimy green water slowly falling from his burning eyes. As she prepares her soul to the highest bidder in hell or a bargain with the gamblers above, this was going to be the memory towards her journey to the underworld or the heavens. The eyes in her face had already taken two slight shuts of no return and when the third was about to finally close, ending her life, she saw someone.
Samantha saw a familiar face from the window she had earlier tried to have a peep. It was the little boy from her class. Still in the old man’s grasp, her eyes opens wide in shock when she saw that it was him. The young fellow had given her hope, awakening her strength to fight death. Then the iris of his eyes turned blue with a spark and it was at that instance the old man staggers, releasing his hold on her as sways slightly on his feet.
A sudden burst of energy zaps Samantha into her bedroom, on the floor cold and shivering in fear. She laid down there refusing to move from the spot. She still could not believe what had happened to her. The last time she recalled being in her bedroom was standing and looking through the floor to ceiling window. Now she was on the ground coughing and struggling to catch her last breath.
Remembering what she had seen, Samantha begins to cry. The biting floor felt her pain as she cried as though her heart would break. “Why me” she whispers over and over to herself and when her eyes became weak from weeping, the plain tiled floor becomes a comfort place to rest.
To be Continued…………
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Categories: written series