The Journey The Journey 2017 - 18 - Page 54

R NATASHA MANGALAM IX GPS(I) It was a dark, dark night. The wind was whistling in my ears, the leaves where whispering- a kind of warning, as if I was not to go ahead. But what could I do? I had lost my way and had no choice but to go on. The sudden echoing hoot of a glassy eyed owl brought me back to my senses. There was an old gate right in front of me, which looked like it had not been crossed in years, moss sprouting all over it, wines and ivy long and thick, twisting and turning around the cold, metallic bars, strangling them with their long, prickly green fingers. I pushed past the creaky gate and went in, ignoring the foreboding voice of my conscience, screaming at me to run for my life. As I walked slowly, cautiously, I heard the cracking of twigs beneath my feet, largely magnified through the large, empty area. I could hear, somewhere global public school in the distance, a lone wolf howling for its pack- like me. There were old grey tombstones, towering above me, surrounding me, crushing me, choking me. Previously the owners of dead, decaying bodies, they were now the homes of little critters, like millipedes, and spiders dangling from their cobwebs, feasting on their long dead victims. The stench of death was all over the place. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw something move. A flash of white. For the first time, my voice failed me. I stood there in shock, muscles stiff, not being able to move, unable to scream, or even let out a little whine, staring into the depths of a dark hedge, from which I had just seen something abnormal, something that was never meant to be there............................... 54