Untamed S3 ep09
UNTAMED
WRITTEN BY
STEVEN JERAL HARRIS
EDITED BY
EMERALD BLUE LORDSFAME
S3 ep09
My mom in danger.
I look away for a moment to swallow the
burning ball in my throat. After taking time to recuperate I kneel onto the
grass and take off my book bag. I then pull out his story and place it gently
next to some roses.
"I enjoyed it, a lot." I whisper
lowly to his picture.
I stand and gaze at the picture of him one
last time. This is still unbelievable. Many strange things have happening to me
lately, but this incident is by far the strangest of them all. There are no
words to describe the sadness I feel about this abrupt and shocking misfortune.
I’ve never lost anyone dear before.
Maybe that’s because I don’t know many people on a personal level. Now, for the first time in
my 19 years of living, I’m starting to feel the
harsh reality of death and the effects it has on others. Now, because of his
tragic death, I may never know why he began acting so distraught.
Besides the sadness, I’m also consumed by anger knowing a killer is still out here,
watching, waiting, for his next helpless victim. Only pure evil can commit
something so horrendous. There’s no justification for
such violence, even I wouldn’t wish such a death on
my worst enemy.
My guilt swells as I stare at the
decorative pictures of him. What happened that led to his murder? This is
another question I have yet gotten answered, and it’s tearing me apart inside.
As I stand in front of this beautiful
setup, constantly staring at a picture of him, I can’t stop asking myself, why? Out of all the people who could’ve been chosen, why this innocent soul? The wind starts to blow
harder, so I wrap my arms around myself to keep warm. Although I’m wearing a scarf and a wool coat, it’s still no match for the bitterness of this autumn day.
The weather is brisk; the ground is cold
and clammy due to raining earlier in the day, and the gray clouds are dense
across the evening sky.
I force myself to turn away from his
memorial. I can’t keep staring at his
blameless eyes much longer, it’s far too painful.
Both guilt and sadness follow behind me as I tread through dampen grass. Then,
out of nowhere, I hear a noise coming from the woods, the noise of twig snapping.
I stop in my tracks and listen to the wind with my eyes on high alert. Seconds
passes by. Maybe I’m just hearing things.
Just to make sure, I stand absolutely motionless and attentive for a little while
longer.
A mob of crows burst from the bare trees
and flee across the cloudy sky. My heart jumps slightly as they abruptly
scatter abroad and disappear from my sight. I shake the jitters from my head,
relieving my mind from the tension, and then continue walking again. It’s all in my mind, it’s all in my mind, I
think to myself for reassurance. But, just to be on the safe side, I double my
pace.
“Iva.” A distant voice calls out to me
somewhere within the woods.
The uneasy feeling immediately returns. It
sounds like the voice of a woman in danger. The nerves in my body go haywire
and the hairs on the back of my neck springs straight up.
“Iva, please help,” the voice calls out
again.
Suddenly it hits me…
“Mom?” I project my voice into the woods.
“Iva, help me please I’m badly hurt,” my mother calls out to me again.
Immediately, I’m ravaged by fear for my mother’s life. Automatically,
I hurry inside the woods and look around for her with desperate eyes, but a
thin mist makes it difficult to see far ahead of me. Still, that doesn’t stop me from running around frantically through the fog, trying
my best to track her voice down.
“Mom where are you?” I speak into the woods
in a higher volume.
“Over here,” her burdened voice calls out
to me again.
I follow her cry for help, ducking under low
branches, parting bare vines, and leaping over large roots protruding from the
muddy soil. It doesn’t take me long to find
her resting sideways on the leaf covered ground.
“I’m over here,” she
notifies me.
She’s curled into a ball
wearing a long gray cloak that’s covering her entire
body.
“Mom, what are you doing out here? Are
you…”
I stop speaking when I notice something
eerie.
My mom is a thin woman but she’s not sickly thin like this. I can see her bony spine creasing the
cloak from the inside.
“Honey, help me up,” she cries out to me without
turning.
I stop walking about 30 feet away from her,
which is close enough to see clearly through the fog.
“Please, come closer. I can’t stand,” she groans in pain again.
An ugly feeling grows inside me all of a sudden.
Then my neck gets hit with a cool sensation that makes its way down my spine,
and lingers there. This is a sensation you can’t get from the chill
of the wind, instead this feeling comes only when you realize something very
creepy and bizarre. There’s something about this
whole situation that doesn’t add up correctly.
What is going on? My mom has no reason
being out here, no reason at all. Actually, she should be at work around this
time. The wind comes through the forest fiercely, disturbing everything in sight.
The strong wind lifts up the hood of the cloak. That stubborn eerie feeling on my
spine takes over my entire body, consuming me like a raging fire.
I see a pale wrinkly head covered in thin
strands of dark hair, and long ears resting on the sides of its face like a
dog. Now, I’m gripped by unfathomable horror. I gasp
hard and try to conceal my fear by covering my mouth. I’ve never felt so terrified in my entire life. The fear is so
powerful it makes my legs weaken, causing me to stumble back a little and grabbing
the side of a tree for additional support. My heart begins to pound against my
chest like a drum. I’m lucky this tree is
in arm’s reach, because without the extra support it provides, I think I
might just faint.
“Baby, come on, help me up.” This thing,
who is obviously not my mother, cries out again.
Extreme fear hits my bloodstream, causing
me to become paralyzed temporarily.
“You are not my mother.” I tell it with
tense words.
...to be continued
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