‘The City’ by Hafsa Amjad Year 8

cobblestones
photo credit: mugley via photopin cc

I ran.

They were after me.  Why? What did I do? I didn’t have the energy to think things through.  I was moving at such a pace I felt light-headed, as if I was going to pass out any second.  The ancient buildings that stood towering over me were just a smoky blur.  I had no idea where I was going, the only thing I was certain about was the fact that the pain of fear and tiredness had rolled up into a screeching bolt of agony and was dragging itself up my body, gradually taking over my mind.  The sudden shock of it all was too much for my feeble limbs to endure.

They were so far yet it felt like I could almost feel their cold breath against my back.  I hindered myself to look behind, as I had to be focused on what I was going to do next.  I had no strength to persevere.  I had almost run out of places to go.  There was nowhere to go.  I had scurried through what seemed like all of the streets of the city.  Then the most tragic catastrophe occurred.  I had faltered over an uneven cobblestone on the path and I fell flat on my face.  There was no way out.  The pain seemed to intensify and their footsteps amplified to the extent that they sounded like a thunder-like drumming.  If felt as if I had boarded a merry-go-round that revolved eternally.  Sounds echoed vigorously, banging on my eardrums, until eventually there was an absence of sound, as though my ears had been enrobed in some sort of filter.

They came to me, took me away.  Motionless.

Hafsa Amjad


Writing and Performance