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The Grass
The wind blows wildy, yelling through the trees whipping my hair across my face. I take a cautious step closer to the opening I see. A bird caws, loud and violent warning me to go back. I can’t go back though, there is no back. I’ve been walking in endless circles in the dead grass that stabs at my arms and legs pulling at my skin until it bleeds small bright drops of red and tearing at my clothes till they rip. I walk farther turning right and my foot sinks in something brown and gooey. It sucks at my foot and devours it wholey. I rip my foot out of the brown sticky substance my shoe begging to stay inside the cold liquid. I sloosh around trying to avoid anything suspicious. However when you’re in the yellow dead grass there isn’t any way to know what’s inside it with you.
Then I see it. The bright shine of sun. The shine hits my face like a warm touch of cloth. I start towards it the wind blowing the grass around trying to block my path. I get closer so close I can feel the fresh new air touching my cheeks. The grass is mad that I'm so close to the way out. I can see it, the grass thrashing around biting at me to stop and stay inside. Whatever wants me in this cold prickling place has it coming if they think I'm staying.
The grass breaks underneath the weight of a foot, but not my foot. It calls my name at a whisper first, slow and pulled syllable by syllable “Hailey, Hailey”. Something grabs my shoulder. A hand colder than ice, scratchy and hard like sandpaper, trying to pull me back inside the grass. I make a run for it, I see a building made of stone, dull and boring.
I get closer and closer till I make out its shape. It’s not a building but a bell tower. An old bell tower that looks too old to actually work. I stop running and walk quietly to the structure my hand trembling slightly as I reach out to touch it. The stone is cold and cracking, crumbling into a powdery nothing in my hand. I look up at the bell, it was probably originally gold, but time and weather turned it into a reddish rust color hanging by a rope that no longer was white but grey and shredded with wear.
I look around; there is nothing but the grass and trees. There is no where to go but inside the grass. There is a crack in the grass as a stick breaks under pressure. I turn toward the sound. I watch the grass being brushed to the left as s0mething runs past. Then I hear the same soft toned voice that called me into the grass the first time. Starting low and quiet in a soft voice then saying my name “Hailey” I stay where I am.
The voice getting louder and more rough saying my name over and over until it’s screaming. The voice breaks and cracks roughly as it screams louder and louder. Then it’s no longer my name anymore. It starts screaming “Help”. I cover my ears, It isn’t real, it isn’t real, it isn’t real, I think over and over. Then it goes completely silent. I uncover my ears shakily. Then I scream. A hand grabs my arm, the same scratchy hard hand that grabbed me in the grass. I yank my arm away and stumble a few steps forward. I look around there’s nowhere to go but in. I take a deep shuddering breath and run hoping I’ll see the sun again.
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"The Grass" is a short thriller about a girl named Hailey who is trapped in a grass maze with something unnatural in it with her. This story is inspired by a scary spicture that I had to write a short story on in 35 minutes.