Run Away With Her

Part 1

He slammed me against the wall. I could feel the blood oozing down my face as I reached my hand and harshly buried it into his stomach. His grip loosened and I punched his face. He let go of me and watched me bend over to breathe. I began looking around for an escape route or a weapon but alas, there was none. The only escape route was far behind him. He looked at me and lifted his foot to kick me, it seemed. For a second, I thought I could stop it, but as I lifted my hands to, he quickly changed his mode of attack as he turned around to elbow my stomach. As my upper body began to fall down, he quickly gave my face the back of his palm and smashed my head back against the wall then turned around and punched me while looking straight at my face. I felt the blood escape my mouth and had a flashback.

It was just after he kidnapped me and he placed me in a cell. I was breathing heavily and panting as if I had just finished running. He removed the paper bag from my head and I examined my new surroundings. Instantly, I laid eyes of the syringe that had a greenish, orange substance in it, that, I had never seen before in my life. But to my disfortune, that isn't even what scared me. Either he too had asthma or he knew about my condition, because he had an inhaler on the table beside the knife and tongs. I was thinking of the worst possible thoughts that could be running through his mind at that point.

His uppercut brought me back into reality, as I had been plunged onto the floor. I looked up and to my surprise, I saw the same knife from four years ago on the floor not too far from me. I quickly scrambled towards it and before I could reach it, he kicked me onto the floor on which I was already crawling on. He pulled my hair and the pain caused me to get up on my feet, but it left his chest to stomach area wide open. I laid a left punch, then a right, then another left, and a right, before he had time to react to the first. He began blocking, and I sprung my hand back, and with full force, I smashed his face. He fell backwards and his mouth bloody. And for once, in four years, I was proud of my accomplishments. But what's there to be proud of when, he recovers easier than I do. I quickly rushed to the knife, picked it up, turned around and was greeted by a round-house kick. I fell backwards and lost the knife. Darn! I turned to look at it, reached for it and before he could reach me, I was already turning around and piercing his thigh with it.

"Ah!" he screamed.

Odd, he screams for a knife, but all my 'powerful' blows weren't enough. I got up, looking all satisfied and determined to win. I gripped onto the knife, and I raced towards him, but of course, he had already gained his energy to stopped my hand, by simply reaching for it and grabbing it. He stood there, staring into my eyes, blankly. His bloodshot eyes pierced into my soul, but my brown eyes probably had no effect on him. For a split second I thought I was already dead, before feeling the immense pain into my stomach and I fell forward, right into his knee. I lay there. On the floor. Bleeding.

I closed my eyes, ready to give up. But I was not ready to spend another day in here, I had to go. I had tried to escape before, so I knew there was a route. I never made it that far out because he was always there to stop me, full of energy and strength. But today, he was weak and even though, I too was weak, it seemed to make a difference. I looked at him, I instantly ignored the pain in my shoulder, the blood in my eyes, the crack on my knee, the bruises on my face, chest, and my entire body burning in pain and sweat. I grabbed the knife and stabbed again, he fell to the floor and I bolted. I wasn't going to waste time trying to kill him. I bolted, out the only opening I saw, the door.

I ran and ran. Till, I could run no more. And just when I thought I was escaping, I felt his presence behind me again.