Time to Dance

"Run!" She screams at me.

And run I shall.

So that's what I do.

I run.

....

I run, until my side burns and my face sweats and breathing has become challenge.

I run until I'm sure I can't run another step, panting and gasping, physically unable to take in enough oxygen to satisfy my heaving lungs.

My backpack is light. I figure I'd need some money, at least one full change of clothes, a bar of shampoo and other miscellaneous things that seem like they'd be of use.

Even though I've brought pretty much just air, the bag holds me down, making each step all the more difficult. My scalp feels moist, but I feel dry inside, craving sweet water. It's a crucial mistake that I neglected to pack any liquids with me.

I don't hear any streams or rivers. I know I'll have to find water, and the mini marathon I just ran is not helping at all.

The woods are dark, cold and uninviting. They whisper to me, telling me to turn around, to run. But I'm done running. I ignore the trees, as they talk to me, but I can't be bothered to speak.

Crazy, I know. But I'm suffering from dehydration and mild starvation. Cut me some slack.

I've been out here for God knows how long, and I didn't have the sense to bring something useful, like a watch. I guess it must be around six in the morning, with the sun rising over the pine trees.

I've never ventured this far in the woods before. People call it the Russian Forest, don't ask me why, I don't know. On the outskirts are dozens of tiny campsites, each holding a handful of families. We've camped at some of them before.

Back when I was younger. When I was happy. But I'm older now, and I have to say; Growing up sucks.

Everything around me has a hint of orange in it, the thousands of thin trees around me bathing in the sunrise.For the first time, I genuinely look and take in my surroundings. It's beautiful, really. The oaks and pines are full of leafy branches, swaying in the delicate September breeze.

The leaves are barely beginning to cover the forest floor, the grass still fresh and healthy from the recently ended summer.The air smells damp and of sap, stinging my nose, but I still enjoy it.

I realize I have no idea where im going. I've been walking/running for hours, no clue as to any final destination. I should consider a hotel, or funding an old couple out here I can rent a room from or something. I go on autopilot as I walk down the same path I've been on forever, considering what I should do next.

All of a sudden, I hear a click, like something sliding into place.

I turn around to see a boy, 30 yards away,pointing a shotgun at my face.

I scream.

He pulls the trigger.