The Dangerous Imagination

The Dangerous Imagination

Micah Rubinstein, Author

I ran. The wind whipped through my hair and my lungs fought to keep pumping oxygen. I tried to remember how I got into this situation. I remember me and my parents were on vacation at the beautiful Grand Canyon and enjoying the view of the ravine below us. That’s when we heard the voice. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

“Help,” the voice said again.

My dad jumped into action and ran to the edge of the cliff. There was a man holding on to a vine, which was slowly coming loose, and my dad reached out a hand. I suddenly had a terrible feeling in my gut. something was going to happen.

The man held on to my dad’s hand and used the leverage to get up while pulling my dad down. My dad let out a final, agonizing scream and plunged down into the darkness. My mom was next and the man pulled a knife out of his pocket and stabbed her in the stomach. I stood, frozen with fear, and stared. The man let my mom fall into the ravine after my dad and turned to look at me. He waved his bloody knife. I snapped back and ran, but not before the man stuck his knife in my chest.

I ran. The wind whipped through my hair, my lungs fighting to keep pumping oxygen because of the knife wound. Then, I tripped over a twig and fell to the dirt. I heard footsteps approaching me and I knew it would be too late for me if I didn’t do anything soon. I looked for a weapon and saw a stick, sharpened to a point, and grabbed it. I jumped up and stabbed the man. There was another person behind the man so I stabbed them, too.

I stood there staring at the bloody chaos and snapped back to reality. It was my parents, who I had killed not a man. I had imagined everything.

“Noooooooo” I shrieked.