The Pit

We were deep in the woods. Not a soul around—just endless wilderness and the soft rustle of leaves beneath our feet.

“Can’t wait to bury him,” he said eagerly, climbing out of the hole he’d just dug. “You didn’t see anyone, right?” he asked, lifting his eyes to meet mine.

“No... but listen—” I hesitated. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this? There are so many stories where teens got caught and ended up in prison. What if we mess up too?”

He stood up straight and stepped closer, blocking my path like a wall. “You hate him too. He won’t stop unless we stop him first,” he said with a quiet, biting edge. He smelled like dirt and dry leaves, and I suddenly found it hard to breathe.

“I’m not doing this. And I won’t let you either,” I said firmly.He scoffed. “What’s changed? You were all in before,” he said mockingly.

He stepped back, hands on his hips, staring down at the pit. I couldn’t shake the feeling that, at any moment, a cop or someone else would jump out of the bushes and demand to know what we were doing—then drag us off to the station. Even a bird’s cry made my jaw clench tight with anxiety. My heart was picking up speed, beat by beat.

Inside, a voice kept repeating: This is wrong. There’s punishment for this.

I had no idea how to stop him. I just wanted to say something—anything—that would cool the fire in his chest and make him change his mind. But right now, he was deaf to words. Even the loudest onesAt this point, words weren’t going to help. It had to be something physical—not deadly, of course—but even though I was just a girl, there was no one else around. Just the deep silence of the forest, towering trees (one of them a thick-trunked walnut), all wrapped in moss, the quiet wind, the crunch of leaves underfoot... and two foolish teenagers caught up in something they thought was “cinematic.”

Curiosity and fear—that’s what really burned inside us. One tried to snuff out the other.

“Well then,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I’m calling him.” He pulled his phone from the side pocket of his backpack.

“Wait... stop. I don’t want to do this.”

“Oh come on, don’t be scared. I’m not going to kill you too,” he snorted, glancing at my face. “We’ll find another adventure! Got it! Let’s kill his parentsinstead!” he declared, swinging his arms around theatrically like an actor in a bad play.

“Would you drop the murder talk already?!”

“Not a chance!”

“Well then take this, you psycho!” I shouted.

With that, I kicked him hard in the stomach. As luck—or instinct—would have it, he hadn’t moved from the edge of the pit. I used it to my advantage and shoved him, sending him tumbling backward into the deep hole.

He landed flat on his back.

“You little—what the hell are you doing?!”

“I’m stopping you from doing something stupid—something you’d regret for the rest of your life!” I screamed.

He sprang to his feet and lunged toward me, trying to drag me down into the pit with him. But I backed off just in time and bolted, even though deep down I knew a shove and a sprint wouldn’t be enough to stop Daniel from doing something terrible.

The pit wasn’t that deep. With a quick push of his feet against the packed soil, he climbed out easily and took off after me. I ran, stumbling through the underbrush, glancing back every few steps.

Daniel was the kind of person who held grudges. It was foolish to think I could get away with that kickwithout consequences. And I was right.

He caught up to me. I felt his shove from behind—and then I was flying, crashing to the ground face-first, dirt filling my mouth and stinging my cheeks.

Before I could roll over or push myself up, he flipped me onto my back and wrapped his hands around my throat.

Just like that. No hesitation. No warning.

It all happened so fast it felt unreal—like we were in some brutal, wordless fight on a boxing ring, where fists and fury spoke louder than anything else.

I fought back with everything I had, clawing at the ground, kicking out, twisting and thrashing, trying to break free from his iron grip—one not guided by reason anymore, but by pure madness.

His grip tightened around my neck—then loosened—then squeezed again, like he couldn’t make up his mind. That’s when I saw his eyes.

They were dark. Not just in color, but in something deeper—darkened by a kind of eclipse, by ignorance, by a blind rage no human, let alone a child, should carry. It wasn’t Daniel anymore. It was a demon, sitting on top of me, punishing me for betrayal.

I clawed at his hands, digging my nails into his skin, but it was like he didn’t even feel the pain. I was suffocating, my mind struggling for air just as much as my lungs, and I couldn’t think of anything to say—no words came.

Except one: God.

Would He really just watch while I died like this—unfairly, unjustly—at the hands of someone I once called a friend? I’d tried to stop something terrible.I tried to save someone’s life. Wasn’t that enough?

Or maybe... maybe He was waiting. Waiting for me to call out.

Somewhere deep inside me, almost without thought, the prayer rose up: Don’t leave me now. Please—help me.

And then—thud.

A dull, heavy sound cracked through the air. Daniel’s eyes rolled back. He collapsed beside me like a sack of limbs.

Had it been a walnut? One of those massive ones that dropped with deadly weight?

“My God.... What is going on here?!” a man’s voice shouted, alarmed, standing just ahead of me.

The thing that knocked Daniel out wasn’t a walnut after all—it was a medium-sized rock, thrown by someone. A man. Broad-shouldered, with a thick beard and fiery red hair. He looked like a hunter. He had a rifle slung over his back. Probably was one.Just having some fun,” I said, still coughing hard.

“Some fun, huh? Strange kind of game. I thought something dangerous was going on—ended up knocking out the poor kid.”

“Oh, believe me, you did the right thing. Thank you.”

“He was chasing you? Attacked you?”

“He’s my friend. We just... had a really bad fight. Could you maybe take him to the address I’ll give you?”

Well, he’s the one who needs a hospital. Let’s get him there instead, if you’re okay with that. “I stood up, brushed myself off, and nodded. “Okay.”

Now I was in a brightly lit hospital room, and all I could feel was discomfort. It was as if everyone around somehow knew—why we were really here, what had really happened between us. Daniel lay nearby, head bandaged, still unconscious. I sat down beside him.Looking at the fragile, sharp lines of his narrow face, it was hard to reconcile that with the broken, furious world he carried inside. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, even in sleep. Only I, out of all his friends, truly understood what he felt. Why he hungered so deeply for revenge. For violence.

Tears welled up in my eyes on their own, and my heart tightened with a mix of sorrow and love for him.

If only he had been someone else...

Or if only I had been able to save him, somehow, from himself.

But no. I couldn’t.

Sitting in the hallway outside Daniel’s hospital room, a small cup of water in my hands, I kept replaying everything that had happened.

“Don’t leave me... help me,” echoed through my mind so loudly I flinched.

Of course.

Tears rose again as the realization sank in: that man showed up right when I’d lost hope—right when I cried out to God.

The way he arrived so quietly—so unnoticed—made sense now. Daniel and I had been too overwhelmed, too consumed by what was happening between us to hear the rush of a stranger’s footsteps. And the way he threw that rock—perfectly, cleanly—striking Daniel in just the right spot... It was almost unreal.

Well, maybe not so unreal. He did carry a rifle with the confidence of someone who knew how to use it. Probably a good shot.