QUICKSAND
by Kaol

The quicksand was up to her knees.

Trina glanced down at her legs, angry at them for betraying her this way. She had been running blindly through the forest, not noticing where she was going. The fact that she had stumbled into quicksand was still fighting to register on her consciousness. Things were happening too fast. She wasn't used to having to deal with things like this on her own. Her rose colored lips began to tremble anxiously.

The quicksand was up to her thighs.

Trina's thighs were bare, her artificial tan now marred by welts and scratches crisscrossing their surface. I must have gotten those running through the woods, she thought, frowning. Tentatively, she struggled to move her legs once more in the muck. The mud was surprisingly warm against her skin, but also abrasive as she pumped her legs. Trina hadn't realized there was quicksand back here. Her dad owned this property, but she'd never really explored it before. Nature had never interested her much. The only exploring she'd ever done was at the mall.

The quicksand was up to her hips.

Tears came to her heavily mascaraed eyes as the blackish mud oozed upwards, covering her formerly pink panties, which was all Trina wore at this point. Her lips increased their trembling, and she began tos ob as she remembered again why this was all she wore. Tim had seemed like such a nice guy. She had really believed he loved her. He said he did. She certainly loved him. He had seemed really flattered by her interest in him, which she could understand as she could probably have any guy in the tenth grade she wanted. It had seemed like a fun, secret thing to sneak back here on her dad's land. A place to make out away from her folks. But he hadn't stopped when she asked him to. He hadn't stopped. Then when he was done and she was bleeding and crying, he had walked off and told her if she complained to anyone he'd spread it around school what a slut she was. She snapped then, and had just rushed off into the woods, not even bothering to finish getting dressed.

The quicksand was up to her ribs.

As she sank in, it began to dawn on her that she was really in trouble, even worse than the trouble Tim had given her. Trina shook her head, trying to toss the blonde hair piled high atop her head out of her eyes. Reaching forward, she tried to reach a nearby tree branch. A grunt creaked from the back of her throat as her fingers clasped around the frail trunk of a seedling, and then she began to cry harder as she uprooted the tree, roots and all. She tossed it away.

How am I supposed to get out of this?

"Tim!" she screamed, hating to call for him, but frightened enough at this point to accept his help.

The quicksand was up to her chest.

Trina glanced down, shivering as the greasy mud jiggled against her bare breasts. They were still developing, but Tim had seemed to like them. She wondered if they'd have the chance to develop any further now.

The quicksand was up to her neck.

Trina's shoulders were under the mud, but her muck covered hands still pawwed at the surface as she fought desperately to keep afloat. At the same time, she didn't squirm too vigorously, not wanting to splash the mud into her mouth. She could smell the musty richness of it all abouther, threatening to make her gag. "Tim!" she screamed again and again. No one came. Her eyes bugged wide. She couldn't believe it. She was going to be in the Homecoming court this year. She couldn't die like this! It was crazy.

The quicksand was up to her lips.

It's like oatmeal, Trina thought. It's like bathing in a big bowl of oatmeal. Her hair floated on the dark surface, as pure as the quicksand was polluted. She wondered if anyone else had ever died here? Were their bones floating in here with her? Would anyone ever figure out what had happened to her?

The quicksand was up to her eyes.

Trina's head tilted backwards as she fought to hold her breath. In pure panic, she squirmed about, causing the surface of the quicksand to quiver like a giant jello mold. Her eyes closed as she went beneath the surface. Daddy had warned her that Tim was no good. Oh daddy, she cried. Daddy, help me! Trina opened her mouth to take one last breath of air that wasn't there.

You can hear this story read by a friend of mine at my mp3 page.


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Created on May 11, 1997

(c) 1991 Kaol