The Yellow wall

Chapter 1 Escape. A chapter from my Novel. please read and comment. Much needed.

Escape
15th October 2000.
In a dark, cold fall night Sarah ran in an unknown direction. Her own breath seemed too loud and the clouds of warm air that came out of her mouth sent jolts of terror through her. What if he noticed them and caught her again! Her left arm burned, the gash a raw, open mouth. She was bleeding heavily, leaving a trail of blood behind as if giving him one more way to spot her. I will not make it out of here if I keep bleeding like this.
The blood was oozing from a large cut on her left arm down her fingers, covering her whole hand, warm and sticky against her ice cold skin. What the hell should I do now? Is he still chasing me? Is he hiding somewhere playing with me? "Stop shaking, Sarah, run! Move or die!" The forest stretched endlessly, an oppressive frigid tunnel. "Please God I can't die here." Sarah ran from her torturer into the dark night and the only source of light for her was the full moon. The night forest was silent; so silent that her own heartbeat seemed louder than a thousand drums.
Har breath hitched as she bent forward clutching her ribs.. All she saw were the outlines of tall trees in the darkness. Shadows only shadows. Adrenaline and sheer terror numbed the agonizing pain for a while, yet her consciousness got foggy, indistinct. Sarah desperately needed a place to hide.
She continued walking. Wet leaves under her bruised and bare feet made her path softer. This god damn forest... this god damn forest doesn't end. Then she saw it; her salvation. "OMG thank you, thank you I can hide here I should hide here, he won't find me... no he won't." Before her stood a vast, old oak, its gnarled trunk boasting a cavity large enough for her to crawl into and hide.
She squeezed herself into the cold, dump space. Every inch of her screamed in protest - scratches stung, cuts throbbed, raw skin scraped against bark. Thus, here she was, in a cold, dark shelter; seemingly safe though still terrified. She covered her mouth with her hand, trembling. Her lungs were aching with the effort not to breathe too loudly.
Then - a snap. A twig. Somewhere out there. Her entire body went rigid.
And that voice - low, slow, sickeningly familiar - slithered through the trees like smoke.
"Sarah! Sarah, where are you? Come out I won't hurt you, promise." Said the man and let out a sickening laughter that filled the silence of the forest.
That eerie laughter sent chills down her spine. All the terrible things he had done to her--and would do again if he found her--flooded her mind.
"Don't upset me, or you will regret it! Come out now!"
Sarah watched him from a tiny crack in her shelter. He stood just beyond the tree line, chest heaving, clouds of warm breath curling into the cold air. He looked like something out of a nightmare. His messy hair, tall, dark figure looked even more demonic in the moonlight.
"Saaaaarraaaahhh..." His voice cut through the air like broken glass then laughter - sharp, cold, eerie. Sarah didn't know his name, didn't know why he wanted her dead. But after weeks in that cage - weeks of torture, being chained, cut and starved - she didn't need answers. She knew. Evil had a face and it was his.
She closed her eyes and a silent sob tore her throat. Still shaking with fear and pain in that tree hole, she prayed to all the gods and saints not to be discovered.
Her prayers must have reached someone. The monster who had haunted her steps, broken her body and soaked her life with fear... walked past the tree where she was concealed.
His laughter slowly faded as he moved further. His boots crushed the frozen earth, dragging a heavy hammer that left a deep scar on the ground as he moved. His figure turned into a shadow and soon disappeared into the blackness of the woods.
Sarah left out a shaky breath, feeling both relief and agony. Blood still seeped from the wound warm against her freezing skin.
She tried to move. The tree cracked. Her fingers trembled. Darkness pressed in. But she clenched her jaw, dug her nails painfully into her palm. I can't die here. Not now, not like this. I didn't crawl through hell to die here in a tree hole in the middle of nowhere. Stay conscious, Sarah, she told herself. Keep breathing, don't close your eyes, you need to move.
She slapped her own face a few times, sharp sting cutting through the numbness,then ripped a strip of fabric from her blood soaked shirt to bind her injury as firmly as possible. This should slow the bleeding somewhat, she thought. Now, it's time to get out of this hole and get moving. David must be missing me so much. I must see him one more time before I die, I must tell him how much I love him, I must tell him that mommy loves him...
The thought of seeing her seven-year-old son again was the moving force that she needed so desperately. What wouldn't a loving mother do to reunite with her child?
She continued to move slowly, her senses heightened and her body tense. Gathering all the little strength she had in her body, Sarah trudged through the forest. Just as she thought she wouldn't ever find the way she stopped and listened; a distant hum; the cars! The Thought slammed into her. I can call for help; I can tell them what happened to me. I have to. Still struggled to take another step up the small hill that separated her from the road. She walked on the muddy, slippery ground; with one more step, her foot slipped. She collapsed to the ground, powerless to move or make a sound.
Tears of pain and frustration wet her cheeks, she smelled the damp leaves beneath her, thinking this might be her grave.
David is waiting for me, she whispered and started crawling as she was unable to get up. She crawled her way up and reached the shoulder road.
The moon hung high, spilling silver over the frozen earth, making the night particularly light. The roar of an engine filled the air and a car screeched to a halt just inches from her; tires rubbing against the asphalt. Clouds of dust swirled around Sarah. Help me please. she whispered.
Somewhere far away, worried voices stirred the air. Strong arms carried her to a warm place. The voices were asking questions she wasn't able to answer. Yet she somehow felt safe for the first time in what felt to be like forever. And just then she let herself drift into the dark.
***


Throughout our lives, we enter countless rooms. Some fade from memory the moment we leave, while the images of others linger long after. This is due to the profound emotions evoked simply by observing these rooms; they spark our curiosity about their inhabitants. What makes these rooms so memorable? Does it matter whether a room is filled with light and soft colors or shrouded in darkness? Or have you ever looked closely at the furniture, the walls, and curtains, or posters and photographs in frames? What can these items tell about a person?
Some rooms are clean and neat, offering peace and comfort. Their soft colors calm you, wrapping you in warmth. Everything in these rooms seems to be in the right place and everything talks to you and whispers you how fine it is to be in that room, how safe and sound you are there. Rooms that give hope with every little item that they contain.
In one of such rooms David, still confused about the situation, was waiting for the police officer to tell him what had happened to his mother. He and his grandma received a late-night phone call from the police saying that they had news about Sarah. That phone call gave them hope and terrified at the same time. They were at the police station, but the room David was in seemed the best place ever!
Am I finally going to see mom? What if the door opens and she walks in now? David's eyes fixed on the door, full of hope as he squeezed hard on the teddy bear in his hand; Sarah's gift. Ugh why is no one telling me anything.
"Where is mommy, gran? I want to see her, where is she?" he asked.
" I don't know yet sweetheart let's wait" said grandma and held his hand in hers.
And so he waited.
That night he didn't get to see his mother - only the police officer who spoke quietly to his grandmother saying things David couldn't quite understand. But when he looked at his grandma's face, something in him just knew: his mommy was in trouble.
David had to wait for a very long time before they finally let him into the hospital room to see his mom - another room he would never forget.
It was a bright room with white walls and the sterile smell of medicine. He sat there day and night, unable to fully understand what had happened. Every time he tried to look at his mom, he would close his eyes with force and his heart would pound so loudly that he thought everyone could hear it.
At first, he thought the woman lying there was someone else. Why wasn't she happy to see him? Why didn't she talk?
Everyone kept telling him to be patient. And he was.
Sarah wasn't able to say a word; just cried day after day.
Then... Many days after she was found and brought to the hospital, she reached out and held David's hand. She looked into his sad eyes and, through her tears, promised she would be okay.