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ASH

Five Years Ago

I don’t hear him coming – only the whistle of a blade flying past before it buries itself in the tree inches from my cheek. My brother’s aim is good, even when his intentions aren’t. Blood roars in my ears as I stumble back. The trees seem to close in on me, and I feel as if there’s no way out.

Low-hanging branches and razor-sharp leaves slap my face, arms, and neck as I run as fast as my legs can carry me. The sensation of my skin splitting makes me wince. Sunlight breaks through the trees in harsh streaks, the heat pressing down on my back. Sweat slides down my temples and stings the fresh scratches on my arms. I can’t hear anything around me over the sound of my laboured breathing and thundering heartbeat.

I force my legs to keep moving, plunging deeper into the woods. The ground is uneven, punctured by roots that grab at my ankles like they’re trying to drag me down, but I push harder. I can hear him behind me now; steady, unhurried footsteps cut through the chaos of my own.

He’s enjoying this. Of course he is.

A low laugh drifts between the trees, soft enough that I could pretend I’d imagined it, if I didn’t know him so damn well. He’s close enough that the sound sends a shiver down my spine, unsettlingly familiar. We grew up racing through these woods, but back then he chased me with muddy hands and a wicked grin – not a weapon.

‘Keep running all you want,’ he calls, his deep voice smooth like he isn’t bothered or puffed at all. ‘We both know how this is going to end.’

Gritting my teeth, I push through a curtain of branches, the sting on my skin nothing compared to the heat rising in my chest. Fear, adrenaline, and something darker I choose to ignore pump through my blood. The air swelters with humidity, causing sweat to drip into my eyes. The trees thin for a half a second, and that’s when I hear it: the faint rush of water ahead. The river. It’s both hope and trouble, depending on how desperate I’m willing to be.

I break through the last line of scrub, my sneakers skidding across loose dirt where the bank drops. The water churns faster than I expected; the river’s swollen from the storm, brown and angry, dragging whole branches in its current. It’s not safe, but neither is staying here.

Behind me, his footsteps smash through the undergrowth, like he’s tearing the whole forest apart.

‘Don’t you dare,’ he shouts, voice raw.

I’m already moving.

I slide down the bank, the mud slick under my palms, and splash into the water. The shock of it hits instantly, cold and biting, stealing the air from my lungs. The current drives at my legs, trying to push me off my feet.

He reaches the top of the bank as I wade deeper.

‘Get out of the water!’ he roars.

Right now, the river is the only thing between us. The current pulls harder, swirling around my knees, then my thighs. I can barely stay upright, each step a gamble, each breath burning. I keep moving. He slides down after me, hands tearing at the mud for balance.

If I’m fast, I can make it out to the main road, where the petrol station is. He won’t attack me in public. His footsteps quicken. So do mine.

I hurl myself up over the bank. My foot slides out from beneath me, and I crash heavily into the ground. I hiss, feeling my skin graze as I get tangled in something that feels like a bush. Scrambling back to my feet, I push on, adrenaline pumping so hard through my veins that I can barely see straight.

My backpack suddenly jerks back and my feet leave the mossy terrain. I’m slammed so hard into the dirt that the air dissipates from my lungs. My body is dragged backwards, and the sound of the water floods my ears.

Familiar, eerie blue eyes – so like my own – peer down at me. His upper lip curls in a menacing sneer before his fist collides with my nose. A horrific crunch fills my ears and a strangled scream escapes through my lips. The punch knocks the world sideways. For a second, all I register is shock and a sharp ringing through my skull, like someone has struck a bell inside my head. My breath stutters, trapped somewhere between my lungs and throat, and heat spreads across my jaw, seeping into a slow, throbbing wave. I taste copper, the bitterness curling on my tongue, and anger climbs up my spine. The emotion is not foreign to me. It’s almost comforting.

Skin smacks against skin. Blood. Pain. Dirt coats my tongue. Red fills my vision. It’s all over my skin, oozing and dripping as punch after punch hit me so hard, I fear he’ll bury my head into the soft, damp ground.

‘If you ever touch what’s mine again, I’ll kill you,’ he growls through his teeth, a dark look of rage tainting his features.

Blood gurgles in my mouth, wet and suffocating. I try to inhale but choke, my windpipe tightening in agony. His fingers sink into my arms, leaving immediate bruises as he drags me further. Darkness edges my vision and I beg for it to consume me. My body scrapes against rocks, gravel, dirt, sticks.

‘Say it,’ he spits. ‘Say you won’t ever steal from me again.’

Heaving, I lift my chin, glowering up at the person I’ve known my whole life. My flesh and blood.

‘Fuck. You.’

Fury flashes in his eyes as he shoves my head into icy cold water that stabs my bleeding, wounded skin like a thousand tiny needles. I inhale sharply and water floods through my teeth, mixing with the blood swelling inside my throat. My ears ring so loudly I can’t think.

The punishing grip on me finally eases and suddenly, there is no one beside me. Slowly, I pull myself out of the water. My dark, wet hair falls across my forehead, sticking to my skin, blanketing my eyes in thick darkness. I press my cheek into the cool mud, wheezing.