His eyes shoot open. In front of him a grassy hill waves in the wind. Beneath him, the grass is stained red. His hand still gone, is wrapped in a crude bandage, dripping blood onto his shoes. A faint voice starts behind him.
"You will soon feel my regret."
Turning around, a treeline quickly comes into view. Bodies hung from each branch dangle in the distance as thunder rolls in. The sky seems to break into streaks overhead. A gust of wind throws him to the ground. His heart begins beating rapidly as he loses his breath. Struggling to pull himself up, he manages to get on his knees. Hands on the ground he raises his head and sees black skies begin to turn red.
YOU ARE READING
Bridging Thoughts
Short StorySometimes people feel lost or trapped in the world around them. They feel a sense of loneliness and isolation from what the people around them see; it is as if they live in a separate world in detail only to their person. These statements bring up a...
