The trail
The trail
The higher I climbed the more jovial I felt. The cold morning air felt fresh on my face, especially after a turbulent night’s sleep. The bales were slippery after a heavy dew had set. It was a bright morning and as I reached the top the suns glare blinded me. Whilst my vision cleared I noticed red blotches shining in the light, blood. Warm, fresh, scarlet. Human blood. It was in a trail leading to a rather large hole. Suddenly the wind picked up. I got a whiff of alcohol, strong alcohol.
Although I was a slight nervous, my curiosity got the better of me. I followed the trail. Thoughts rushed to my head, ridiculous thoughts. Fugitives and immigrants, trying to find asylum. But I realised that we had two students who are always messing around. Whilst I was walking towards the cavernous hole, the wind got stronger. The Dutch barn started rattling around me. The smell got stronger. Whiskey I thought, remembering the smell of my grandpa’s house. It was dark, fortunately I had got a new smart phone for my birthday, which had a torch on it.
The first thing I saw was a scarlet lump, a gun and a bottle of jack Daniels. The lump was a sleeping bag, still warm. The gun, a Glock 26, loaded and live.
Climbing down from the bale stack thinking about what I had just seen. I considered my options.
I noticed and smelt smoke I walked roughly in its direction passing between the livestock sheds. What I saw surprised me, a small fire a log acting as a seat next to it, a coat (stained with blood) and blood all over the floor. The blood trail still went on.
Thoughts were still mingling in my mind. Then I remembered the police cars, helicopters and dogs which I had seen last night, looking for something. Someone. I walked, walking turned to jogging, and jogging turned to sprinting. I was scared.
I had no contact with the outside world. I was standing on the road. A dust trail was kicking up in front me. An engine roared. I ran. I ran for the woods. I looked behind
The higher I climbed the more jovial I felt. The cold morning air felt fresh on my face, especially after a turbulent night’s sleep. The bales were slippery after a heavy dew had set. It was a bright morning and as I reached the top the suns glare blinded me. Whilst my vision cleared I noticed red blotches shining in the light, blood. Warm, fresh, scarlet. Human blood. It was in a trail leading to a rather large hole. Suddenly the wind picked up. I got a whiff of alcohol, strong alcohol.
Although I was a slight nervous, my curiosity got the better of me. I followed the trail. Thoughts rushed to my head, ridiculous thoughts. Fugitives and immigrants, trying to find asylum. But I realised that we had two students who are always messing around. Whilst I was walking towards the cavernous hole, the wind got stronger. The Dutch barn started rattling around me. The smell got stronger. Whiskey I thought, remembering the smell of my grandpa’s house. It was dark, fortunately I had got a new smart phone for my birthday, which had a torch on it.
The first thing I saw was a scarlet lump, a gun and a bottle of jack Daniels. The lump was a sleeping bag, still warm. The gun, a Glock 26, loaded and live.
Climbing down from the bale stack thinking about what I had just seen. I considered my options.
I noticed and smelt smoke I walked roughly in its direction passing between the livestock sheds. What I saw surprised me, a small fire a log acting as a seat next to it, a coat (stained with blood) and blood all over the floor. The blood trail still went on.
Thoughts were still mingling in my mind. Then I remembered the police cars, helicopters and dogs which I had seen last night, looking for something. Someone. I walked, walking turned to jogging, and jogging turned to sprinting. I was scared.
I had no contact with the outside world. I was standing on the road. A dust trail was kicking up in front me. An engine roared. I ran. I ran for the woods. I looked behind