He flew through the woods, panting and gasping for air.
Breathe in, breathe out, he told himself. Stray twigs and leaves struck his
face with every step but he pushed on. Pebbles and rocks on the damp earth
threatened to make him lose balance any second. He spread out his arms so he
wouldn’t fall. His pace quickened; he never looked back. He flew on and on and
on into the dark nothingness of the woods. In the far north, there was the
faint gush of water. They won’t be able to trace his steps after the stream, he
tells himself. Unsure, but those words were as much comfort as he could have at
the moment.
Gasping for air, his heart pumping so hard it nearly burst
into a million pieces. Don’t give up on
me now he begged. His feet kept moving forward, one sure step at a time. A
rock unhinges from the soil and rolls him veering to the left. He catches his
breath. He starts running again. This time, his feet felt heavier than before.
Like a sudden block of cement was tied to each calf, he could feel his pace
slowing down. Noooooooo he silently
begged. He looked up at the sky. Panting, gasping for air, he looked up at the
sky.
He tried to continue running. This time it felt like
quicksand was drawing him down; but there was no quicksand. Just the limp limbs
of a terrified soul. A distant howl wakes him from his agony-ridden thoughts.
It approaches. He knows it will be soon. He closes his eyes and opens them one
last time to look up at the sky. One final time, to look up at the sky.
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