Short Story: Hope's Rainbow

Short Story: Hope's Rainbow

This piece has not been edited by the ShortbreadStories team.

Thump, thump, thump, thump. My footsteps echo on the soft ground as I pound them into it. Trying to regulate my breathing I force myself on, weaving through the trees, don't trip, one fall and he'll catch up. Water drops on my head, clothes cling, wet trainers, slippy soles, soggy socks. Keep going.

Sliding into the pit, the cold, cloying mud envelopes me. Reaching up to my armpits, like treacle it holds me, resisting my attempts to push on. It would be so easy to stop, sink further down into this bog. He's behind me now. I can hear him groan as the mud seeps through him. Holding my head up, wiping the mud from my eyes I lift heavy, weary legs, forcing knees to bend and feet to travel. I feel his hand on my shoulder but he's too late. I've reached the bank and haul myself out, the mud sucking at me but failing to hold me.

Soft, wet grass but no time to stop, no time to rest. A quick glance over my shoulder proves he's reached the bank. Looking ahead, through the trees, flashes of colour peek through them. A rainbow picked out against the slate grey April sky. The clouds roll and tumble as the wind blows them onwards, taking the cleansing rain with them.

One final obstacle between me and the rainbow that beckons, one small hill to climb. Water from the downpour courses down the sides, feet slip finding no purchase but he's so close now I can almost feel his breath. Run, pull, hold onto the grass, one final push and I reach the top. Hope waits at the end of the rainbow. Running down the the other side I slip, falling and it's too late. He's caught me, his hands wrap around me, slipping off my mud soaked arms but reaching again he holds me in his grasp.

'I told you I wouldn't let you get away from he,' he says, pulling me to my feet.

'I won't let you win,' I say, struggling to pull my arms free and making one last dash.

My feet touch air, his grip strong as he lifts me over his shoulder, I kick and squirm but he adjusts his hold and moves on. There will be no escape.

'Mum, Dad look at this.'

The newspaper article shows a pair of mud-coated creatures. The whites of their eyes and teeth glare. The headline: Joe and Sarah Connor Win Mud Madness 2012.

'They even mention me,' she directs their attention to the report.

Mud Madness, the cross-country obstacle course, run by 1000 entrants through the peat bogs of County Antrim, each April, in aid of cancer charities. The husband and wife team won it this year in style, Sarah given a fireman's lift over the finish line by Joe. They raised £3000.00, inspired by the help given to their daughter, Hope, during her successful battle against leukaemia.