DEAD GIRL UNDER THE BLEACHERS

I looked over my shoulder as I ran across the football field, rain blurring my vison. I stumbled forward, tripping over my own two feet, but caught myself before hitting the ground. Up ahead I see the bleachers. The same bleachers I’ve sat on since attending high school at Lakeport High. It’s where all the football games are played. It’s also my only place to hide from the person chasing me.

I can see the metal seats sparkling from the rainwater falling from the storm-dark clouds. I run in that direction as a lightning bolt shot from the sky, lighting my way. The second I think I’m ahead of whoever is chasing me, I’m hit on the back of the head, sending shock waves of pain through my skull. I squeezed my eyes shut, an instant reaction to the pain coursing through my skull. The automatic reflex of my hand went to my head. I felt something warm and wet. I was sure it was blood.

By the time, I made it to the bleachers, hoping to find shelter, I was hit once again, this time on the back of my leg, behind my knee. I dropped to the ground, holding my right leg. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out. The sound trapped inside my throat. This had to be a nightmare. A bad dream. I couldn’t be living this, but I was, and it was real.

I began to crawl, dragging my right knee across the wet fresh cut grass. Undoubtedly, my leg was broken. Shattered in several places. I gritted my teeth as I slinked along; the pain was more than I could handle, but I had to find safety. I couldn’t let this person kill me. Once under the bleachers, I collapsed onto my side. I couldn’t go any further; the pain was more than I could handle, and I was losing a lot of blood from the gash on my head.