Young Writers Society

3rd person

The woman was close; Asha could feel it. Finally. She had been searching for almost fifteen years, and now she could sense the woman’s presence.
Bands of anxiety constricted her heart. What should I say? Should I say anything at all? Her eyes followed the woman who drifted silently past the tree line. The sharp smell of decay blew into Asha’s face, as broken branches crunched underfoot. Idly she wondered why the forest was thinner towards the highway like a balding head. If the situation hadn’t been so tense, maybe she would’ve laughed. Maybe.
She could feel night’s shadowy fingers touching her everywhere, making her skin crawl. She shuddered a bit and suddenly she couldn’t stop; her instincts were telling her to get out. Fast. But she refused to leave until the woman was with her. She urged her feet to move toward the woman, but they seemed to be frozen in place by the uncommonly early autumn frost. “Mom!”

1st person

I found her. Finally. I had been searching for almost fifteen years.
Bands of anxiety constricted my heart. What should I say? Should I say anything at all? My eyes followed her as she silently drifted past the tree line. The forest was thinner towards the highway, a balding head. The infinite darkness of the night pressed onto me like a shadowy veil of hostility. I shuddered with dread; my instincts were telling me to get out. Fast. But I couldn’t leave until she was with me.
I urged my feet to move toward her, but they seemed to be frozen in place by the uncommonly early autumn frost. “Mom!”