The Escape

October 15, 2000

The night wasn’t dark enough to hide her from him, and the forest stretched without an end. Cold clung to her skin, biting into it like a hungry animal. Sarah clamped her hand over the large wound on her left arm and forced herself to run. Blood leaked from the wound, wetting her fingers—warm, sticky. A tight knot struck her chest. She tried to take a deep breath, but her ribs ached, cracked from the multiple kicks she had taken before.

She clenched her jaw and covered her mouth, leaving bloody fingerprints on her face.

 Her bare feet stepped on fallen leaves. Another step forward and an agonizing pain struck her. She moaned and looked at her feet. Whether it was a stick or a piece of glass, she couldn't tell; the darkness swallowed the answer. After a few seconds of desperate rest she continued moving further into the forest. She dragged herself forward, where the trunks grew massive. Sarah looked around trying to find a spot she could hide. Her eyes darted through the shadows searching for a gap, a hollow-anything. Then she saw it. A huge, old oak  with a rotten heart-a cavity large enough for her to disappear in.

With a held breath she squeezed herself into the cavity. Her skin, a map of countless wounds, flared with pain. Yet the hope for salvation was stronger. She adjusted her tortured body in the small coffin-sized shelter.

 Sarah inhaled the smell of rotten leaves mixed with her blood. Her mouth opened in a silent scream of lacing torment and fear. 

Sarah reached for what was left from her blouse and tore off a piece of fabric. She tied the wound tightly, hoping it would slow the bleeding. Huddled there in a damp old oak trunk, she almost believed she had escaped him. Then, in the distance, his voice shattered her illusion.

“Sarah, where are you?”

The sound echoed through the forest, breaking against the cold air and the darkness.

“Do you think I was serious about letting you go?”

Her body jolted with every word he said. Eyes closed, she started to pray - silently, hopelessly. She had to tell David how much she loved him. She had to hug her son one last time.

The prayer went on and on as if her life depended on it.  

The voice sounded much closer now.

“Sarah, come on. You can’t leave me now.”

The laughter stopped. His voice dropped, shifting into a cutting hiss.

She froze.

Through a tiny crack in her shelter, she watched the black figure pass by. Slim, tall—like a creature escaped from hell. His face was hidden beneath a black mask, but his voice filled the space, echoing back and piercing Sarah with terror.

A heavy hammer scarred the ground behind him as he walked, dragging it along.

Sarah watched him disappear slowly into the darkness of the woods. The melody he whistled still reached her as he moved away—a melody she would never forget. 

As the sound of his whistle died somewhere in the distance, hope crawled in. Her limbs growing heavy, and her consciousness weakening every minute, Sarah knew her only option was to leave the oak and look for help. 

So she did.

 Every new step felt like it was the last one for her. Her wounded arm burned and throbbed. Strength vanished from her joints, making her collapse onto the ground. Her nails dug into the frozen, silent earth. Tears wet her face as she inhaled the smell of damp, frosty ground—the scent of what she thought would become her grave. She gave in to the feeling and closed her eyes.

Just then a voice in her ears—so dear, so familiar, asked her to come back home. It cried and called for her.

David.

She whispered his name and opened her eyes.

Then another sound—this one real. Sarah listened.

Cars.

She lifted her head and looked toward where the sound came from.

The road. 

Sarah crawled. Only a few metres separated her from salvation. She pushed her body forward with her legs. Pain forced a moan from her throat, but she had no strength left to scream. Still, she crawled until she reached the shoulder of the road.

The moon hung high, spilling silver over the frozen earth, making the night unusually bright. The roar of an engine filled the air, and a car screeched to a halt just a metre from her, tires grinding against the asphalt. Clouds of dust swirled around Sarah.

“Help me… please,” she whispered.

Somewhere far away, worried voices stirred the air. Strong arms lifted her and carried her into warmth. The voices asked questions she wasn’t able to answer. Yet, for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt safe.

And then she let herself drift into the dark.