You & I
By
J. Awad
This maze is haunted. I can feel it in my bones.
As my feet step onto the short blades of grass, my body is strung tight with tension and awareness. Something is following me, something truly frightening.
The edges of the stone walls touch the expanse of darkened sky, moonlight slivering between its cracks. It doesn’t provide much room to see.
A thud reverberates through the once-still silence. I freeze.
My head whips around to locate the source of the sound. I am met with emptiness.
When I face forward once more, there it is.
“Did you think you could elude me?” Its lips curl into a sneer at the apparent absurdity of the question.
I can’t meet its eyes. I don’t want it to see the desperation written across my face, something new to mock me with.
“Yes.” The whisper comes out shakily. The previous conviction I had to finally escape disintegrates—as if it never existed in the first place.
The grin widens and turns into something crueller. “Nice try. I am with you always. You know that.”
I just nod, hopeful that now it will go away. But it remains steadfast, hollow black eyes staring right through me.
“How about we turn this into a game? We’ll race. If I make it to the middle before you, you have to admit that you will never be free of me. And if you win, I’ll leave you. Forever.”
I jolt at the sound of that word, that promise. Steeling my resolve, I search its eyes carefully, looking for a hint of dishonesty—that this is nothing but a trick. Except I see none, just a glaring cockiness.
So I whirl around and run. I sprint deeper into the labyrinth, legs pumping hard, arms swinging, hair whipping around me. The taste of freedom is consuming.
As I make a hard right, my eyes flit behind me to see where it is. It hasn’t even moved an inch. A hand raises in a sarcastic salute. Dread pools in my stomach, and I run harder.
A left turn. But this time, it’s a dead end. I ignore the burn in my chest and the heaving of my lungs as I twist back around.
It feels as if I run for hours. Every time there’s a blocked pathway, I refuse to let it dissuade me. I will make it to the middle first.
Whispers surround me, taunting. You’ll lose. You always do.
My determination shields the barbs from cutting deep. I know I’m just so close.
Finally, I take a lucky turn. The stone walls disappear into the background to reveal a large meadow. There is nothing except for a door: plain oak with a single knob.
That door is my way out and unwitting grasp at victory. And it is nowhere to be seen.
Hope curls through me and provides one last burst of adrenaline. I run faster than I ever have in my life, arm outstretched and fingers shaking to grab ahold of that knob.
Five more metres. Four. Three. Two--
It appears out of thin air, right in front of me. I am forced to come to a sudden halt.
“I’ll commend you for the effort. You truly tried this time. Not like the other rounds, anyway.”
It clucks its tongue, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. My body wilts instantly; it recognizes what is coming.
To rub salt in the wound, it begins to slowly walk backwards, an invisible string dragging me forward with each step. I want to sever this connection and flee, but I am powerless.
“Maybe one day,” it says. Though we both know full well that day will never come.
We’ve reached the door. A hand is laid on the wooden surface and it crumbles, into nothing but particles that blow around us and settle into my skin.
The entire time, its gaze is trained on mine, those black, black eyes ensnaring and pulling me in until I can’t let go.
“Say it.”
I make it wait, as one last act of defiance. It’s not until it comes a step closer that the words tumble out.
“I will never be free of you.”
The satisfied look on its face makes me want to fall to my knees and let out a shriek, one heard to the ends of the earth.
“That’s right. You and I, we’re intertwined forever.”
With those final words, darkness begins to engulf me. It stands there, watching.
This time, I really do scream. It comes out silent.
I scream until my throat turns raw and the darkness has completely taken over.
J. Awad is a Canadian-Egyptian woman who studied Psychology and English during undergrad and is now working on a Master's in Literature. She has been published in 101 Words, The Academy of the Heart and Mind, and has other forthcoming publications. When not writing, she loves to read, discover new music artists, go for walks, and rewatch her favourite TV shows for the millionth time.
By
J. Awad
This maze is haunted. I can feel it in my bones.
As my feet step onto the short blades of grass, my body is strung tight with tension and awareness. Something is following me, something truly frightening.
The edges of the stone walls touch the expanse of darkened sky, moonlight slivering between its cracks. It doesn’t provide much room to see.
A thud reverberates through the once-still silence. I freeze.
My head whips around to locate the source of the sound. I am met with emptiness.
When I face forward once more, there it is.
“Did you think you could elude me?” Its lips curl into a sneer at the apparent absurdity of the question.
I can’t meet its eyes. I don’t want it to see the desperation written across my face, something new to mock me with.
“Yes.” The whisper comes out shakily. The previous conviction I had to finally escape disintegrates—as if it never existed in the first place.
The grin widens and turns into something crueller. “Nice try. I am with you always. You know that.”
I just nod, hopeful that now it will go away. But it remains steadfast, hollow black eyes staring right through me.
“How about we turn this into a game? We’ll race. If I make it to the middle before you, you have to admit that you will never be free of me. And if you win, I’ll leave you. Forever.”
I jolt at the sound of that word, that promise. Steeling my resolve, I search its eyes carefully, looking for a hint of dishonesty—that this is nothing but a trick. Except I see none, just a glaring cockiness.
So I whirl around and run. I sprint deeper into the labyrinth, legs pumping hard, arms swinging, hair whipping around me. The taste of freedom is consuming.
As I make a hard right, my eyes flit behind me to see where it is. It hasn’t even moved an inch. A hand raises in a sarcastic salute. Dread pools in my stomach, and I run harder.
A left turn. But this time, it’s a dead end. I ignore the burn in my chest and the heaving of my lungs as I twist back around.
It feels as if I run for hours. Every time there’s a blocked pathway, I refuse to let it dissuade me. I will make it to the middle first.
Whispers surround me, taunting. You’ll lose. You always do.
My determination shields the barbs from cutting deep. I know I’m just so close.
Finally, I take a lucky turn. The stone walls disappear into the background to reveal a large meadow. There is nothing except for a door: plain oak with a single knob.
That door is my way out and unwitting grasp at victory. And it is nowhere to be seen.
Hope curls through me and provides one last burst of adrenaline. I run faster than I ever have in my life, arm outstretched and fingers shaking to grab ahold of that knob.
Five more metres. Four. Three. Two--
It appears out of thin air, right in front of me. I am forced to come to a sudden halt.
“I’ll commend you for the effort. You truly tried this time. Not like the other rounds, anyway.”
It clucks its tongue, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. My body wilts instantly; it recognizes what is coming.
To rub salt in the wound, it begins to slowly walk backwards, an invisible string dragging me forward with each step. I want to sever this connection and flee, but I am powerless.
“Maybe one day,” it says. Though we both know full well that day will never come.
We’ve reached the door. A hand is laid on the wooden surface and it crumbles, into nothing but particles that blow around us and settle into my skin.
The entire time, its gaze is trained on mine, those black, black eyes ensnaring and pulling me in until I can’t let go.
“Say it.”
I make it wait, as one last act of defiance. It’s not until it comes a step closer that the words tumble out.
“I will never be free of you.”
The satisfied look on its face makes me want to fall to my knees and let out a shriek, one heard to the ends of the earth.
“That’s right. You and I, we’re intertwined forever.”
With those final words, darkness begins to engulf me. It stands there, watching.
This time, I really do scream. It comes out silent.
I scream until my throat turns raw and the darkness has completely taken over.
J. Awad is a Canadian-Egyptian woman who studied Psychology and English during undergrad and is now working on a Master's in Literature. She has been published in 101 Words, The Academy of the Heart and Mind, and has other forthcoming publications. When not writing, she loves to read, discover new music artists, go for walks, and rewatch her favourite TV shows for the millionth time.
