HOME | DD

Description
The air was moist with humidity and stuffy with sweltering hot rays of sun. The grass was turning golden brown in several places which along with the heat reminded me of walking through a barren desert. I found a small trail that headed towards a wooded area. I was glad to be out of the ferocious sunlight. I followed the trail until the canopy of trees became more and more dense. As I walked through the shade, I noticed how the light reflected from all the leaves. It cast an eerie green light all around. The more I walked , the trees grew older and became gnarled and twisted. The sort of thing you expect to see Icabod crane being frightened of. It was like walking through an old horror film. I was just waiting for some guy with a chainsaw to jump out from the next tree and saw me in half. I decided I would sit and take a break. The weariness from earlier was still present and making me feel exhausted. I sat upon a fallen tree trunk and took a water bottle from my bag. The water was refreshing and felt good upon my chapped lips. The burn around my wrist was stinging fiercely. I needed to find out why I was seeing all these…"visions" How could these things be happening to me? I grabbed my pack and with a new mindset persisted to explore the forest
The path began to fade and off to the side in a small clearing a dilapidated shed stood haphazardly.
I lightly pushed the door open. It creaked noisily scaring several birds which flew away in a cloud of feathers and dust. I walked through the doorway and swept thick stringy cobwebs from my hair. It looked as though it was used for a tack shed as well as for hunting. There were racks of guns and knives. All sorts of tools were scattered upon an unsteady work bench. On the other side of the shed, bridals, saddles, whips and reins lined the walls. Riding helmets were stacked neatly inside a shelf. It smelled of sawdust mixed in with horse manure.

I walked slowly towards the bench. Right above It was a window caked with dust. I wiped the dust off with a horse blanket from the corner of the shack.  I looked through the window and saw the trees swaying in the wind. A shadow in the form of a human moved out from behind a near by tree. I ducked instinctively and crawled towards the wall in which the guns were hung. I grabbed a shotgun that was still loaded and exited the shack. I made my way behind it where the view from the window was. The trees were thicker here and the roots protruded out of the ground every few steps. I moved cautiously through the roots and twigs.  I stopped short a few paces of the tree where the shadow had been. I held up my shotgun ready to aim and fire. I could hear a shuffle of feet and twigs snapping underneath footfalls. I crept forward barely breathing and my heart racing. A dark shape shifted quickly towards another tree. Was it another survivor? Was someone tracking me?  I followed it and as I twisted through the tree trunks. My vision blurred and my heart nearly lept out of my chest. There you were but your skin was burned your face was covered in dried blood. Your eyes were wide with fright.  And you were mumbling broken sentences. I moved snail like towards you my gun lowered. I try to reach for you to touch you to know that you are real.  As I do, you dissipate into nothing but thin air. The trees leaves rustle unsettingly and carried on the breeze a spine chilling whisper creeps into my ear
"They're coming."

I spin around peering through the trees over and over again. My heart thudding so hard I swore it was going to burst out. My legs felt like jell-o wobbling as I stumbled back to the shed. I slamming the shed door behind me debris falling onto my hair and shoulders as I slide down to the floor. You were just there standing in front of me. The dried blood, burnt skin, and the frantic muttering. It scared me more than anything. But you couldn't be real. You disappeared.. Faded before my eyes. I wasn't sleeping. Nor was I dreaming. I was awake. And the voice.,could I imagine your voice carried out in the wind?  Could I have mistaken the branches of rustling trees for you voice? I grabbed some of the knives, guns and put them in my pack. I race back to the house. As I approach the forlorn grimy porch, I cautiously look around wary of my surroundings.

Description
The air was moist with humidity and stuffy with sweltering hot rays of sun. The grass was turning golden brown in several places which along with the heat reminded me of walking through a barren desert. I found a small trail that headed towards a wooded area. I was glad to be out of the ferocious sunlight. I followed the trail until the canopy of trees became more and more dense. As I walked through the shade, I noticed how the light reflected from all the leaves. It cast an eerie green light all around. The more I walked , the trees grew older and became gnarled and twisted. The sort of thing you expect to see Icabod crane being frightened of. It was like walking through an old horror film. I was just waiting for some guy with a chainsaw to jump out from the next tree and saw me in half. I decided I would sit and take a break. The weariness from earlier was still present and making me feel exhausted. I sat upon a fallen tree trunk and took a water bottle from my bag. The water was refreshing and felt good upon my chapped lips. The burn around my wrist was stinging fiercely. I needed to find out why I was seeing all these…"visions" How could these things be happening to me? I grabbed my pack and with a new mindset persisted to explore the forest
The path began to fade and off to the side in a small clearing a dilapidated shed stood haphazardly.
I lightly pushed the door open. It creaked noisily scaring several birds which flew away in a cloud of feathers and dust. I walked through the doorway and swept thick stringy cobwebs from my hair. It looked as though it was used for a tack shed as well as for hunting. There were racks of guns and knives. All sorts of tools were scattered upon an unsteady work bench. On the other side of the shed, bridals, saddles, whips and reins lined the walls. Riding helmets were stacked neatly inside a shelf. It smelled of sawdust mixed in with horse manure.

I walked slowly towards the bench. Right above It was a window caked with dust. I wiped the dust off with a horse blanket from the corner of the shack.  I looked through the window and saw the trees swaying in the wind. A shadow in the form of a human moved out from behind a near by tree. I ducked instinctively and crawled towards the wall in which the guns were hung. I grabbed a shotgun that was still loaded and exited the shack. I made my way behind it where the view from the window was. The trees were thicker here and the roots protruded out of the ground every few steps. I moved cautiously through the roots and twigs.  I stopped short a few paces of the tree where the shadow had been. I held up my shotgun ready to aim and fire. I could hear a shuffle of feet and twigs snapping underneath footfalls. I crept forward barely breathing and my heart racing. A dark shape shifted quickly towards another tree. Was it another survivor? Was someone tracking me?  I followed it and as I twisted through the tree trunks. My vision blurred and my heart nearly lept out of my chest. There you were but your skin was burned your face was covered in dried blood. Your eyes were wide with fright.  And you were mumbling broken sentences. I moved snail like towards you my gun lowered. I try to reach for you to touch you to know that you are real.  As I do, you dissipate into nothing but thin air. The trees leaves rustle unsettingly and carried on the breeze a spine chilling whisper creeps into my ear
"They're coming."

I spin around peering through the trees over and over again. My heart thudding so hard I swore it was going to burst out. My legs felt like jell-o wobbling as I stumbled back to the shed. I slamming the shed door behind me debris falling onto my hair and shoulders as I slide down to the floor. You were just there standing in front of me. The dried blood, burnt skin, and the frantic muttering. It scared me more than anything. But you couldn't be real. You disappeared.. Faded before my eyes. I wasn't sleeping. Nor was I dreaming. I was awake. And the voice.,could I imagine your voice carried out in the wind?  Could I have mistaken the branches of rustling trees for you voice? I grabbed some of the knives, guns and put them in my pack. I race back to the house. As I approach the forlorn grimy porch, I cautiously look around wary of my surroundings.