Writing prompt: ‘If I stand perfectly still, they can’t see me’
Over on A Writer’s Path, there was a prompt post with three prompts to choose from. I chose the third prompt: ‘Begin a scene with this line: If I stand perfectly still, they can’t see me. I wrote this short piece for it. Enjoy!
If I stand perfectly still, they can’t see me. They stalk passed me, all the while their eyes searching for me, but I stay perfectly still, and they can’t see me.
The leaves and twigs crunch underneath their booted feet, the sounds getting closer as my heart pounds inside my chest. My breathing quickens, the sound ridiculously loud in my ears, and I curse myself that I can’t seem to make it any quieter; every so often, I see one of their heads turn in my direction, and I think for a moment that they have found me. But I stay perfectly still, and they can’t see me.
Their weapons sit firmly in their grips, one hand around the barrel, one wrapped around the handle, their index fingers stroking the triggers. One twitch when they are facing in the right direction, and it’s all over. As soon as they find me, they’ll start firing, and it’ll be the end for me. So I stay perfectly still, and they can’t see me.
It’s a sanction, I know; they’re looking to punish me for my cowardice. They think I should be out there, with them – they even gave me a weapon of my own – and I had no choice but to hide. I can tell that they disapprove; they think me weak, so they try to find my hiding place. But that’s the beauty of a hiding place – if I stay perfectly still, they can’t see me.
Or, at least, that’s what I thought.
I hear the all-too-familiar sound of a gun firing before I can do anything about it. Something slams into my back, and pain flares at the impact point; I fall forwards, onto my knees, the leaves and twigs crunching underneath my weight.
“Gotcha!” My assailant cries with glee, running around to my front. My heart fills with shame as I see that it is merely a child, and that he is raising his gun to me once more.
With a sigh, I hold out my arms, presenting my chest so that he may finish me off.
With a sadistic grin, he pulls the trigger again, covering the front of my khaki uniform with yellow paint pellets.