Creative Writing: My Hero's Journey

Yolanda sprinted through the forest, the earth pounding beneath her feet. The rattling motion of the eucalyptus trees towering above her matched the green in her eyes - moving rapidly but firmly fixated on what lay in front of her. She was extremely fast, yet consistent and predictable, like the uniform spinning of a turntable. The forest was vast and carried on for as far as the eye could see in every direction. This was not the first time she had ran like this. This was an almost daily occurrence. Yolanda had been taught to prepare for anything, a soldier from the age of nine. At sixteen now, she was more than used to this - avoiding enemy bullets was but an intricate game of hide and seek. Pulling her head back for one solitary moment, Yolanda checked to see if the others were keeping pace. The youngest, Natalia, trailed the furthest behind in their pack of four. The grimace in her face suggested she was running as fast as she could, but her short, thin legs struggled to keep up. “Come on!” she yelled, both demanding and encouraging in the way she spoke. They had to get back before Andres would punish them. Base camp was in sight, and with every galloping step she took Yolanda could feel herself being closer to

Focusing her eyes, she noticed the young, Natalia standing in awe, pointing at the photograph and the open notebook at Yolanda’s feet. “Natalia…”, she quivered, “Please don’t! Please don’t tell him!” Natalia stepped forward, snatching the notebook from her. ”You’re not supposed to have that,” murmured Natalia, her voice innocent but cold. Yolanda was stood still shaking, almost paralysed in shock. Natalia looked into her green eyes one last time as she began to turn around. “I’m sorry” she whispered, and she began to sprint towards the others. Yolanda shrieked and pulled herself up, chasing after her as quickly as she could, her weary legs trembling as she