My Crazy Obsessed Stalker (Watty Awards 2011)

Chapter Nine: Grip My Hair

Chapter Nine: Grip My Hair

“This is a jungle and only the strong survive.”

Christopher Pike Thrist No.1

                I ran for my life; red hair whipping back as I sprinted into the darkness, putting one foot in front of the other while being careful not to step on any sticks because they might make a noise and Jamanj would come after me. The complex operation sounded like a good plan in my head; I did not know that avoiding making noise in the woods in complete darkness was just as difficult as navigating the jungle in Vietnam with land mines littered everywhere. Each branch that broke under my foot made me cringe a little inside as if I were setting off an explosive. My breathing quickened but I continued on. All I kept thinking about was how much noise I was making and that Jamanj was going to come and kill me. Those scary blue eyes constantly popped up in my head, reminding me that a crazy killer was after me. Using a flashlight seemed like a solution to my problem but Jamanj might see the light from far away.

                “I have an idea.” I whispered to myself.

                I remembered the cell phone tucked away in my bag; it could be used to call my sister to come get me. Then my face fell. When crazy Jamanj was after me, I told Charisse and everyone else in the car to get rid of their cellphones. That was something I regretted. The phone was useless because my sister did not have a phone. What use was a cellphone in the middle of nowhere if you didn’t have anyone to call?

                As if it were possible, the night became darker. The midnight blue sky turned to dark obsidian black. My green eyes struggled to adjust to the pitch black sky and as I avoided almost running into a tree. The trail was no longer recognizable for I could have been walking into a bush of Poison Ivy or into the lake and didn’t realize it because I could no longer see. The trail was under me and I figured that if I squirted hard enough, I could make out the dark smooth surface. I struggled to make sure that my feet were walking on the pavement, and not grass, or toward the deep lake. It was as difficult as walking across one of those tightropes like a limber acrobat in the circus.

                “What am I going to do now?” I asked myself as I spread my arms in front of me like a blind person trying to feel where they were.

                The darkness was not the worst part of the night. My imagination was. I continued to think of the worse possible situations. My mind went wild as I thought of crazy scenarios like Jamanj being behind me with a weapon, waiting until the right moment to strike. It felt like long agonizing hours had passed and there was a scattering sound in the woods. Panicked and confused, I placed my sweaty delicate palm over my mouth to keep myself quiet. I could hear myself whimpering as if I were an injured animal. My imagination controlled me and I began wondering if Jamanj was really near me with a knife or a gun. I feared for my life and did not want to face Jamanj again. His eyes and his pale face frightened me and it was sure to give me nightmares for the rest of my life.

                My emerald eyes then began adjusting to the dark woods. The dark green trees, the cobblestone trail that continued on perpetually, and the peaceful bluish green lake were now slightly more visible. The noises began to sound closer and I didn’t want to stick around to find out whom or what was making them. Even though I was making a little bit more noise, I began speed walking and then sprinting away from the unpleasant sound following me. It seemed as if I was in the Labyrinth struggling to get out, but instead of there being a man eating Minotaur somewhere nearby, Jamanj would pop out at any time.