Cut

Written by Brooke-Lauren Montgomery

 

 

              Twilight. The moon, the only source of light through the masses of tangled twigs, lit the path of desperation's trail. With seconds to spare, she could become the next victim of the menacing evil that walked on two legs. She heard a relentless pounding of drums, but soon realized it was the sound of her own beating heart that she feared would take her into tachycardia. 

               High pitched screams cut through the air like a pizza cutter slicing through a freshly baked pie. It ricocheted off the trees, then finally sprung into the ears of a shaken girl. Her hair, matted with dirt and blood, fell in stringy strands about her face as she breathed rapidly, terror unwilling to leave her. The dirt that smeared on her cheeks and forehead, mixed with blood, gave her face more color. Her eyes, a radiant blue, dilated from the fear that she may just lose her life.

               More desperate screams filled the woods as she kept running with all her might. She was too frightened, to panicked to cry. Everything around her seemed so...shallow, unwilling to help. The branches and twigs were like cold, scratchy fingers that taunted her, trying to prevent her from getting away from the arms that wanted to kill her.

               Hopeless. Hopelessness filled every inch of her sunken heart. Something drove her to keep going, that there was a way out of this living hell she was surreally apart of. Those screams did not have to come from her as long as she fought to keep the strong will to live. Her best friend since kindergarten school had met her fate, unable to do a thing about it.

               Hating the bastard that had taken away her best friend, she wanted to face the giant, to take away his life just as he had taken away her friend's, but she was too afraid. Now, she ran scared, like an antelope from a lion.

               This nightmare she was living was like a dream, though she was not asleep. She was not dead. She was alive, very alive. She was, indeed, in this place that she feared most, a place that she thought only existed in horror movies.

               Her legs were begging for mercy, screaming at her to let them rest, but she pushed forward. Her legs got their wish when her foot caught on a tree root. Down she went, face planting into the dirt and leaves. She felt no pain, only sheer adrenaline as she sprang up onto her feet again. Leaves clung to her hair as she wiped her mouth with the back of her dirt stained hand.

               The screams of of her friend came no more, but was replaced with another looming and doomful sound. A cackling penetrated the wood's evil thickened air. It rang through the trees like an air raid siren announcing the end of the planet's very existence. Her fate drew nearer and nearer, but she continued to push her exhausted being through the woods, in frantic search for the highway. She turned to look behind her and, to her horror, saw the one that killed her best friend, the one that was now coming for her. So relentless, so disgustingly corrupt.

               A whimper escaped her lips as she saw the bloodstained clothes of the one that so desperately wanted to kill her. She kept going, going, going. At last! There is was! The highway, so beautiful, so near!

               This was her chance! Her chance to make it out alive and to get help! Her chance to get this maniac off her back and killed, where she would be taken into loving and helpful arms, where she would be doctored and cared for.  

               She burst out onto the open road. "STOP!" she screamed, wildly waving her arms.

               The next thing she heard was, "And cut! That's a wrap!"   





Oh, Baby!

Written by Brooke-Lauren Montgomery

 “I’m sorry, but, you are not having a boy, Mr. McKenzie,” said Doctor Manes while walking up to an anxious Dillon McKenzie.

            Mrs. McKenzie looked over at her light headed husband who sat wringing his hands in the plastic chair up against the wall, only a couple of feet away from the examining bed in which she lay.

            Mr. McKenzie’s face slightly twitched as he asked, “A girl?”

            Doctor Manes smiled, turning to Mrs. McKenzie. Upon seeing the good doctor’s happy face, a faint smile cracked on the side of her mouth.

            Doctor Manes slowly shook his head after returning his gaze to Mr. McKenzie who was beginning to perspire on his forehead.

            His grin growing bigger, Doctor Manes said, “You’re having two…two boys, Mr. McKenzie. Congratulations.”

            Mr. McKenzie swallowed, the sound of his spit going down his throat filling the silence of the small, clean waiting room.

            “Twi…twins…” he whispered, his face growing paler. His gaze turned to his wife who was now grinning from ear to ear. “Kate…”

            That was all he could say before he fell forward and rolled onto the ground.

            “Dillon!” Mrs. McKenzie exclaimed, sitting up from the examining table.

            “Oh, he’ll be quite fine, Mrs. McKenzie,” informed Doctor Manes, stooping down to her husband who lay limp on the floor. “This is definitely not the first time something like this has happened. Nothing new here, I assure you.” He turned her husband over. “Mr. McKenzie…Mr. McKenzie…Can you hear me?”

            His eyes moved below his lids.

            “Mr. McKenzie….Can you hear me?”

            His lips weakly opened and a tiny whisper escaped them, “Yes.”

            “Good. Open your eyes. Should I get a wheel chair?”

            Mr. McKenzie gently opened his eyes as if he were coming out of anesthesia.

            “Should I get a wheelchair?” repeated Doctor Manes.

            Sounding more conscious, Mr. McKenzie said, “No, thank you, Doctor, I think I will be fine.” He blinked several times while lying on the cool tile floor. Taking in a few deep breaths, he said, “Kate?”

            “Yes, Dillon, Dear?”

            “I must have hit the ground before he told us the sex of the baby. What was it? What are we having? Is it a little Isaac or a little Cheyenne?”

            “Doctor Manes?” called Mrs. McKenzie.

            “Yes, ma’am?” inquired a nurse upon walking into the room.

            “Oh, will you please bring in a wheelchair for my husband? He’s going to need it.”

            The nurse nodded.

            “Kate,” Mr. McKenzie said, sitting up, “I told you I’m fine. Now, what is the sex of our baby?”

            “Are you sure you shouldn’t wait for the wheelchair, honey?”

            “Kate!” Mr. McKenzie exclaimed in pure excitement, “I’ve waited this long to find out the sex of our baby, and I’m dying to know! The blasted wheelchair can wait!”

            “Alright…” Mrs. McKenzie said, uncertainty obvious in her voice. She cleared her throat and then said, “Dillon, honey?”

            “Yes, darling?”

             “We’re having two little Isaacs.”

            “What?”

            “It’s two, honey…there are two little ones in my tummy.”

            Mr. McKenzie stared into his wife’s eyes for a few seconds, then for the next two or three, he seemed to be staring past her.

            “Baby?”

            “Baby…” he mumbled, his eyes rolling back as he began to lay down.

            The nurse walked in with the wheelchair, and upon seeing the husband on the floor, grinned.

            “First child?” she questioned to a very conscious Mrs. McKenzie.

            “First children…we are having two,” she stated softly, but with pride.

            “Well, congratulations!” she exclaimed. “We will have him up and running in just a minute.”

            After Mr. McKenzie was awake with more color in his face, and sitting up in the wheelchair, he looked up at his wife who walked with confidence.

            So beautiful, so elegant…so together in this time, this precious and fragile time. How can she be so calm and relaxed? How does she do it? Mr. McKenzie thought to himself as the nurse wheeled him around the corner to the front desk.

            “Why, hello, Mrs. McKenzie,” greeted the lady at the front desk. “How does Wednesday, October fourth at three o’clock sound? We should be, pretty much, right on schedule if we book you for that time.

            Mrs. McKenzie thought for a moment and looked down at her husband who seemed nearly back to normal.

            “Dillon, will that work for you? Wednesday, October fourth at three o’clock?”

            Mr. McKenzie appeared to be thinking, but then again, he looked to be trying to keep his consciousness about him.

            “Yes…yes, I believe it should work.”

            “Alrighty then,” confirmed the lady at the desk. “We shall put you for that date! Here is your card,” she said, handing Mrs. McKenzie a card with the date and time. “And you are all set! You guys have a great afternoon!”

            Mr. McKenzie stood to his feet and kissed his wife tenderly.

            As they walked to the front doors and stepped into the chilly air, Mrs. McKenzie said, “For a while, there, I thought you weren’t going to be okay.”

            Dillon laughed a hearty laugh. “I’m fine. By the way, Honey, what was the sex of the baby?”

            Mrs. McKenzie looked at her husband uncomprehendingly. She then sighed, and turned around to go back inside for the wheelchair.