Becoming Found Again....

ONE

Rain falling; creating explosions of both sight and sound wherever the droplets hit.

I'm falling too, in my own way, creating my own explosions, but mine are leaving a lingering effect unlike the little clear drips, not on the history books nor on the world around me, but to the individual infinities within everyone that Im leaving in my wake.

I cant stop running; running for my life, running from the ones I love, running from the ones who care, I cant stop running.

The forest tingles with the energy of the storm, expecting and reacting to the path the storm sets out before it and every creature within its protective green cocoon.

As I run I can feel the deep aching burn within my very being at having run for so long; I'm tired of all this hiding, this moving, this unstable life that I just want to return home from.

But I'm being attacked; every night and every day, if not in reality then within my own paranoia that brings my enemies to life even in my sleeping hours, when I even can sleep.

I veer to the left, towards the torrent of sound ensuing from the underbrush. It's a river, overflowing and angry; angry at the downpour that's bursting its banks and angry at the very gravity that is keeping it to its course.

My pursuers are closer now, closer then they have ever been before, in the spur of the moment I jump, jump into the oncoming currents in the hopes of losing my hidden enemies even if it means because they have nothing left to pursue but a corpse bloated and floating.

I have had as much as I can cope from these creatures that I have yet to lay my eyes upon, these creatures that create such vulgar and animalistic sounds in the darkness that I can only imagine what they look like, I would happily die if it would mean enough of this torment.

But I know that my death would only be the beginning, the beginning of the end that the world doesn't see coming from just around the corner.

Within the water I feel alive, rejuvenated and invigorated to fight harder than before, if only to save other families from my misfortune. Im used to this; the hiding, the running and the fear.

Breaching from the living fluid I greedily gulp the air that clears my mind and focuses it so that I may remember just why I am here in this situation.

FLASHBACK

A young boy roughly 12 years old, with the features of his father and the softness of his mother with the exception of his extraordinary freshly fallen snow coloured hair reflecting the glints of the sun, runs through the meadow towards the victorian manor that has stood upon the wild flower drenched hill for centuries, cascading its view upon the sun touched mound.

The boy runs up the hand made stone steps, through the dark oak doorframe and towards his mother, short in stature but with all the kindness in the world for anyone she lays her gaze upon, her gaze which is directed to no one but her son as he runs in sweaty and hungry with red cheeks and muddy knees from a full day of a boys expeditions and adventures.

"Oh Elion how ever will we clean you up today" Moira lovingly chastised while directing her son to the nearest supply of clean water to wash the days grime from his delicate sun kissed skin.

Whilst cleaning her son in preparation for the evening's meal there was a loud crashing coming from outside the family home. Elions father who had been hereto occupied in his office with current situations; consisting of local animal disappearances which he ensured to the neighbouring farms was caused only by the wolf pack not far down stream of the area, came out to ensure that his wife and child was safe before he went to investigate the source of the sound with a knife in his hand that he ensured to Moira was only for possible protection, from the wolves he suspected to be the cause of the noise.

With the thought of her husband outside with beastly animals and the chance of harm, Moira's face became pale with worry and discomfort which was only increased when she heard a yell followed by snarls coming from outside the window.

"Aiken !" she shrieked as she raced from the downstairs bathroom to the front entrance, with the shot gun normally hidden above the kitchen cupboards propped against her shoulder ready to fire.

On her way to the front door Elion who had snuck from the bathroom to the living room archway began noticing that his mother was whispering in a rhythmic melody repeatedly like a prayer they would normally say before eating, but these words Elion could not understand like the prayers, but still he realised that the whispering was having an effect on the gun that began to glow with patterns, swirling and colliding similar to the ones his mother would draw with her finger on the kitchen counter without even recognising what she had done.

There was another snarl from outside followed with a thunder of what sounded similar to bear feet hitting the hard sand like ground surrounding the property akin to when he played games of chase and tag with his father in the summer time; his father would chase him around the house, catch and tickle he would laugh so much he would begin to cry which led to him yelling for his mother to save him. Outside though sounded like a more dangerous game of chase and tag with snarls, barks and yells coming from the opposite side of the walls where his father had only just left to investigate.

Moira slowly inched open the big solid oak door bit by ever aching bit until she stood before the open entrance and looked out unto the darkness that was only broken by the full, fat, milk soaked moon just beyond the trees. A silence had fallen over the outside world not even halted by the sound of the usual crickets and owls that would normally be present in the air on a night like that one.

As Moira took a tentative step onto the front steps there began a crumpling sound of dirt under foot that began at the rear of the house and slowly made its way around to the kitchen window at the side of the building, Moira quickly rushed into the house, shutting the door behind her and began pushing Elion up the stairs towards his bedroom, once in his room she began to guide him to his toy box, lifting the lid and encouraging him to step inside, now luckily for Elion all that was In the box at that moment was all his cuddly unwanted soft toys that he never played with for being too old for them which left enough room for him to climb in and not have the lid still be popped open showing where he was hiding.

"Now Elion don't you leave this box do you hear me, not until I come in here and get you myself, I'm just going to go find your father and then we'll all be back to getting supper started huh, even if you hear me call you don't come, not until Im here in this room and you see its me and I have you in my arms again do you understand Elion" Moira said all this whilst comforting her distressed son, but with tears in her eyes and a final kiss to the forehead she silently wished her son good luck and as she shut the toy box lid she knew that that was her goodbye.

Elion was frozen until he began to hear the noises coming from just under the floor boards; the crashing, the growling and even the the screaming that's when he began to shake not only from the noises he heard but also from the cold that had entered his bones.