around me as I begin to pedal, but after five minutes I decide that it is almost impossible to ride like this. We are getting nowhere, and the monsters will be out in force tonight, especially here, brought by the scent of blood.
I stop the bike and think what to do. “Lilly, I need you to sit in the basket if you can,” I say, deciding on my plan.
She shakes her head, not wanting to let me go, and I don’t blame her. I can’t blame her. The urge to ask what happened after she left with Sarah is strong, but the knowledge will do me no good right now. I would get angry and emotional, and I need to be strong. I need to have a clear head. I need to be quick.
I pry Lilly’s arms away from me, which spurs a fresh bout of tears from her. I push her tangled curls back away from her face and I look into her eyes, my heart breaking at her sadness, wanting and needing to take it all away, but all I can do now is try and get us to safety.
“I need to be quick. We need to get away from here. You have to sit in the basket, please.” I beg her to understand. My voice is forceful and calm, but she seems to find some comfort in it.
Her chin quivers, tears pouring down her cheeks, but she nods. She loosens her grip on me, and I lift her and place her bottom into the basket. She’s facing toward the road, her legs dangling in front, and though she’s not comfy in any way, it is the safest way for her to ride for now.
“Hold on tightly,” I whisper, to which she nods solemnly and grips the handlebars. She looks awkward and uncomfortable, but it’s the best I can do.
I give a quick glance behind me, almost certain that I can see the dark shadows moving around at the site of Sarah’s earlier car crash. I turn back to the way we are facing and begin to pedal as fast and as hard as I can. It’s much easier like this, though it’s still too slow for my liking. Especially compared to a car. But we are moving away from them , away from the death that they would surely bring.
My muscles are tight with worry and anxiety, and anger still burns in my stomach—a quiet fury that I want to release, but can’t. Yet when I look at Lilly, the pale profile of her face looking up to the trees that hide the moon from our sight, I breathe a sigh of relief. Because she is here. She is safe. I have her with me again, and I will never let anything happen to her. And that is all that matters. Not my anger and my rage, or the dread I feel growing inside of me. I will keep Lilly safe, no matter what. And I will kill Sarah if I ever run into her again.
The night is a blur of blackness and monster screams, though thankfully, we do not see any of the monsters. But their screams are enough to chill me to my core. I say a silent prayer of thankfulness as the trees open up and give way to a wide open highway. I can see on either side of us now. The ground is flat on both sides, allowing me to take a shaky breath as the realization that we are truly alone settles in. We are not being followed, or stalked through the night. There are no monsters waiting for us. It is just Lilly and me right now. The moon is glowing full and round in the blackened sky, another thing that calms my fractured nerves.
I slow my pedaling, feeling hot sweat beading down my spine and across my forehead. My muscles are aching, tiring after riding so hard for so long without a break, but I can’t stop now. Not yet. Lilly’s body slowly slouches sideways as she finally falls into a deep yet troubled sleep. I hold the handlebars tightly with one hand and keep a grip on her body with my other. It makes pedaling twice as hard and makes the bike wobble, but it’s the only way for her to sleep. And damn it, she’s a little girl, she should be safely tucked up in bed somewhere, with a fluffy pink blanket in her little bedroom filled with cuddly toys and Barbie dolls. She should be dreaming sweet dreams of cotton candy or riding on flying unicorns. She should be looking forward to
I stop the bike and think what to do. “Lilly, I need you to sit in the basket if you can,” I say, deciding on my plan.
She shakes her head, not wanting to let me go, and I don’t blame her. I can’t blame her. The urge to ask what happened after she left with Sarah is strong, but the knowledge will do me no good right now. I would get angry and emotional, and I need to be strong. I need to have a clear head. I need to be quick.
I pry Lilly’s arms away from me, which spurs a fresh bout of tears from her. I push her tangled curls back away from her face and I look into her eyes, my heart breaking at her sadness, wanting and needing to take it all away, but all I can do now is try and get us to safety.
“I need to be quick. We need to get away from here. You have to sit in the basket, please.” I beg her to understand. My voice is forceful and calm, but she seems to find some comfort in it.
Her chin quivers, tears pouring down her cheeks, but she nods. She loosens her grip on me, and I lift her and place her bottom into the basket. She’s facing toward the road, her legs dangling in front, and though she’s not comfy in any way, it is the safest way for her to ride for now.
“Hold on tightly,” I whisper, to which she nods solemnly and grips the handlebars. She looks awkward and uncomfortable, but it’s the best I can do.
I give a quick glance behind me, almost certain that I can see the dark shadows moving around at the site of Sarah’s earlier car crash. I turn back to the way we are facing and begin to pedal as fast and as hard as I can. It’s much easier like this, though it’s still too slow for my liking. Especially compared to a car. But we are moving away from them , away from the death that they would surely bring.
My muscles are tight with worry and anxiety, and anger still burns in my stomach—a quiet fury that I want to release, but can’t. Yet when I look at Lilly, the pale profile of her face looking up to the trees that hide the moon from our sight, I breathe a sigh of relief. Because she is here. She is safe. I have her with me again, and I will never let anything happen to her. And that is all that matters. Not my anger and my rage, or the dread I feel growing inside of me. I will keep Lilly safe, no matter what. And I will kill Sarah if I ever run into her again.
The night is a blur of blackness and monster screams, though thankfully, we do not see any of the monsters. But their screams are enough to chill me to my core. I say a silent prayer of thankfulness as the trees open up and give way to a wide open highway. I can see on either side of us now. The ground is flat on both sides, allowing me to take a shaky breath as the realization that we are truly alone settles in. We are not being followed, or stalked through the night. There are no monsters waiting for us. It is just Lilly and me right now. The moon is glowing full and round in the blackened sky, another thing that calms my fractured nerves.
I slow my pedaling, feeling hot sweat beading down my spine and across my forehead. My muscles are aching, tiring after riding so hard for so long without a break, but I can’t stop now. Not yet. Lilly’s body slowly slouches sideways as she finally falls into a deep yet troubled sleep. I hold the handlebars tightly with one hand and keep a grip on her body with my other. It makes pedaling twice as hard and makes the bike wobble, but it’s the only way for her to sleep. And damn it, she’s a little girl, she should be safely tucked up in bed somewhere, with a fluffy pink blanket in her little bedroom filled with cuddly toys and Barbie dolls. She should be dreaming sweet dreams of cotton candy or riding on flying unicorns. She should be looking forward to
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