Gifts

by Ethan Marsh

I run out of the house, sprinting further down Main Street. I hop across the bridge that leads out of the Prevalent zone. I run to the grassy field where I peacefully soaked my feet, before he came to me. Before he ruined me.

  I stop and look up into the sky. I am a very lucky boy. The yellow, the orange, the pink. The impressive stream still runs below the mountain range, as the shadows fly down on me. I quickly forget it, and move on, getting ready for the fight of my life.

  I run back into the woods, where the lady had told me to go. I find the pathway that leads out of the woods and I stand, my hands on my knees panting.

  I am close. Too close. I finish catching my breath and sprint down the five-hundred yard trail that I had once walked with the lady. I notice that the sulm and mud is replaced by damp dirt that only stretches to the bottoms of my shoes(a lot easier to run in than the two hundred unit high sulm.) I know the circle is within fifty meters. I grab my compass and hold it into my hands. I will kill him. Right. Now.

  I see the circle. I see the tents. And most importantly, him. I see him.

  XXVI