Hedge Maze

I remember when I was in school, I used to drift in and out of the classroom. The teacher would say something and then, as my attention slipped away from her words, she would be gone, replaced by an anteater or a massive talking tree. One day she was discussing a field trip the class was to go on. As usual, I stopped listening almost as soon as she opened her mouth, turning my attention to more interesting thoughts. Every now and then, snatches of what she was saying would drift through the haze of my daydreams: disjointed words and phrases with no meaning or clarity. On this particular day, I remember hearing her say something about a “maze” and “hedges.” I assumed she was still talking about the field trip and wondered what it would be like to go with a group to a hedge maze.

The day the field trip arrived, my class and I loaded up a bus and arrived at a hedge maze. The tall, leafy, green walls soared above our heads, their dense branches twisting themselves into knots as they climbed up towards the stifling sun. I was a little worried but calmed my fear by singing songs by Linkin Park.

We followed our elegant, ugly teacher through the passageways carved in this thicket until we reached what seemed to be the center. Stopped in this vacant part of the tangled maze, we found shade from the hot sun in clouds that were forming overhead. Little did we know, they weren't clouds.

From nowhere, a giant the size of a ten-story building brought down its foot upon my class and its teacher. As happy as I was for the end of an annoyance such as Ms. Kettlestot, I was in no mood for jubilation. The uncertainty that previously had been pulling at the edges of my thoughts burst with full force into my mind as I ran from the clearing, clawing my way through the dense maze walls. While I shoved my way through the gauntlet of ferns, I looked back to see that which was chasing me: a giant with hands the size of semitrucks, a face of nothing but anger and shame, one big eye that seemed to never be able to show anything but hate, and a horn, like a huge obolisk, jutting from its disgusting head.

I ran.

And even after fleeing the maze, I never looked back. I didn't go to school the next day. I didn't go back ever. I had to stay home... ...They were after me... I knew they were all dead.