Short Story: Let me Go

    • Short Story: Let me Go

      Let me Go

      She liked to visit the woods often. They brought her back to happier times. Times when her Father was still alive. The time before he had been murdered just for a little bit of change he had had in his pocket. But she only focused on the good times. The endless hours of wandering, talking, bonding, loving. She’d never had a good relationship with her mother, her mother didn’t care about her.

      All she could hear was her breath. Rapid and shaky. The cold air brushing past her rosy cheeks felt like fingers, pulling her back into a place where she knew she couldn’t stay. The woods were calling her, and she knew it was time she answered. Tears welled in her empty hazel eyes as she knew she was not coming back this time. The ominous woods stood before her, ominous for most, yet for her they seemed inviting. She began to sprint, and she did not look back. Her mind raced with thoughts, no, with memories, of better days. She ran for what seemed like hours, leaping over the roots of the dark, giant, frosty trees around her. She had gotten out before the snow came, which would’ve led a footprint trail to her. By now she was bawling her eyes out, but she knew there was no love left for her, and her tears would forever go unnoticed.


      Over the years she had become mess of broken pieces, a fractured shadow of her past self. There was only one thing anchoring her into her seemingly pointless existence. A life not worth living. Eventually she could run no longer. She collapsed against a tree, drowning in pain, sadness, eternal darkness. A forbidding breeze blew through the trees, echoing eerily. She shivered and bundled herself up in her thick coat and scarf. Her red scarf that her father had given her. She drew out a picture from three years ago, the last time she’d seen him. She ran her finger along the jagged edge where she’d torn her mother out of the photo. She sat there, burying her face into here coat, until there were no tears left.


      That was when she saw the boy. He was sitting on a fallen log, near where she sat, staring at her with broken eyes. A tear rolled down his lean cheek.


      “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, to startle you,” He began, looking at his feet. He looked to be about the same age as her, and a similar height as well, with neat black hair. His skin was so pale it was almost white.


      “Take my coat.” She stood up and offered it to him, as he was only wearing a black shirt and jeans.


      “I don’t need it. I already let the cold get to me,” He turned his head away, “you ne-, need to make sure you don’t let that happen to you. Promise me. Don’t make my mistakes.”


      “What do you mean?” she stuttered. The boy stood up and looked at her. He seemed familiar. The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. Her father’s hunting knife, the one she’d carried out with her, her escape.


      “Please, please don’t do it.” He murmured, his eyes glistening as light reflected off his tears. She fumbled around her own pockets. How had the boy taken the knife from her? She tried to grab it, but when she touched his wrist she froze and their eyes locked. His ghostly skin was freezing cold.


      “F-f-father?”. The boy gently nodded. She recognized his thin face, deep-set eyes and small mouth from her father’s family photos, when he had been just a boy. The boy dropped the knife as she rushed forwards and embraced him tightly. Both shivered. The cold emanating from him quickly subsided and was replaced with a gentle warmth. She felt a heart begin to beat inside his chest. She drew back, realizing it must be a dream. Sure enough, the boy was gone.


      “Come back!” she cried, her wails drowned out by the thickness of the woods. His last words rung in her ears. ‘Please, please don’t do it.’. The world around her began to spin and grow hazy. Her vision blurred. Had it been a dream? How come the knife he had dropped still lay in the snow where he’d dropped it? She lay back on the ground, watching snow begin to fall from the white sky above. She went limp, her breathing drew slower and her eyelids began to flutter.


      The good times flashed through her mind. The good days, the better days. She could no longer hold on. She no longer wanted to hold on. All her second thoughts were pushed away. She could not go back. The image of her ghostly father faded in and out of her eyes. She had no energy left, no will to move, to strength the live.


      “Let me go”.


      “Just let me go”.


      She was never found.
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