(The House Beyond the Trees continued)

My heart could beat no faster and, for a moment, it almost stopped; cold serpents of fear, writhing through my already terror-rid body. I began to walk, telling myself all the time that everything was alright and that it was not that far and that there would be someone there, who would understand; someone, who would be able to help. I lifted one foot after the other in the normal pattern of walking, as I had always done, ever since I had learnt to walk, all those years ago, and my feet obeyed me, but, after five minutes, I was in the same position and the house was still looking at me and the fence was still running like a row of sentries along my right hand side.

The trees were still just as far away.

This was not fair. I knew that I was on the verge of becoming hysterical. I wanted to scream, but I dared not. I slid down on to the ground and held my head in my hands. Quiet sobs seeped between my fingers and mixed with the grey afternoon. I should be free. I should be running down the road and someone should be waiting for me, with their arms held out and words of comfort and assurance on their lips.

The tree near the house sighed again and a gust of wet wind made me realize how cold I really was. I rose to my hands and knees and tried to crawl; the newly created mud sticking to my hands and to my clothes. I no longer cared as I had only one goal – to be free. I dug my hands into the soft, wet soil and urged my body forwards. ‘I must move forward! I must move forward!’ A wet branch hit my face and I recoiled, both from fear and pain. I looked behind me; I had actually moved a couple of metres. Heartened, I pushed onwards, oblivious to my soaking clothes and the pain in my head.

The white curtain, at the upstairs window, blew out through the window, defying the rain and waving, like some kind of strange peace flag or was it a sign of surrender?

I had reached the end of the fence. Dare I stand? Dare I try and run again? I looked anxiously up and down the deserted road in the hope of seeing someone, anyone, who would be able to help me. The rain was falling more heavily and the house, now somewhat behind me, had become darker and more ominous. I raised myself into a half-standing position and began to run again, taking long strides, wishing that, like an aircraft reaching the end of the runway, I could suddenly lift into the air and become totally airborne.

The curtain was waving further and further down the side of the house, almost impervious to the wetness of the rain around it.

(to be continued)