by Sarah McWhorter, age 15, Piedmont High School
Oct 28, 2010 | 942 views |  0 comments | 6 6 recommendations | email to a friend | print
My feet crashed against the cement recklessly, every footfall a stroke of luck. Each breath a second longer than I thought I would ever have. My breathing was heavy and ragged; my lungs screamed in protest as I forced the icy air down. Every fiber of my being ached, but I urged myself forward. Not now. I can’t stop now, just a little more. A little more and you’ll be safe. My thoughts sounded like a broken record, but I was my own cheerleader. Even though, deep down, I knew I was lying to myself. There was no safety. Anywhere. No matter how far I run, no matter how much I hope. There’s no point. I couldn’t let myself realize that, though. I had to lie to myself. I had to believe I could stay human.

I felt as if eyes were everywhere watching me. Hysteria began to creep up on me, the hairs on my neck stood erect. This pushed me forward faster, with a speed I had not known before, and an urgency with which I was not familiar.

I was going dangerously fast now, too fast for my clumsy legs to keep up with. I should have known better, but it was too late. A stray cobblestone was sticking up from the smooth sidewalk, and somehow my foot managed to find it. I was sent sprawling, and landed limply on the ground. Panic started to set in, and whimpers began escaping my chest. My concentration of positive thoughts was broken. I couldn’t think at all.

A pair of bright red eyes shone through the darkness. I scrambled for my backpack until I realized I had ditched it a few miles back to lighten my load and force me to move faster, even though I knew the risk. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. My thoughts roared in my mind. The eyes seemed brighter somehow; it must be freshly fed. A spark of hope began to sprout in my mind, but I quickly stamped it out. There was no use. No escaping. Then, I could see a face, a face I had seen a million times, one that I could pick out in any crowd. I gasped, and this made it smile. My sister stepped slowly towards me, taking each step with care. Thinking through the plot before it was executed. Typical Thylia. I scooted my body as far away from the monster as I could manage, to no avail. She crouched like a lioness cornering its prey, and pounced.

The darkness of the night. I embraced it. It was me, and I was it. We were one. I was a creature of the night. The hunt was my mission tonight, and the lust for blood was my guide. Eureka. A frightened little girl stood at a street corner under a light post. As I approached, the light flickered, then dimmed. I felt myself smile greedily. My tongue traced my lips, and my fangs bared tightly over my teeth.... I pounced.
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Bloodlust by Sarah McWhorter, age 15, Piedmont High School

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