In My Cell

Prologue

Beads of sweat turn to rivers as they drip from my forehead down my face. I feel a sting in my right eye from my sweat. The feeling of salt in your cornea is never a pleasant feeling. My breathing quickly becomes heavier. It's almost as if I'm running through a thick, dense fog. Of course, if I had the choice to be running, I would've passed on the opportunity and moved on with my day. Unfortunately, in this very moment, I have no choice.

Run, I tell myself in my mind. Don't let them catch you. If they do, you're fucked for life. If not, you're free. Run.

The sirens grow louder and louder behind me. Whoever came up with the Doppler Effect can rot in hell. The sirens continue to blare, but there's no doubt in my mind that they're waking up everybody in every crevice of this town. They blare on and on and on--a piercing, shrieking cry for my capture--but they won't stop until I give up. Giving up isn't an option. I can't just hand my life over to the police. Why should I give up my rights to someone for something I never committed?

I can't run forever, but I can hide pretty well. Hide and Seek was my favorite game to play as a child and now I can use it to my advantage. Nobody ever found me. The trick of the game isn't particularly about finding a good spot. All you have to do is shut up, bite your tongue, stay quiet, and whatever you do--don't move. I had ran through the woods, going as far as I can, and made my stop; hiding behind a thick sugar maple tree. All I have to do is stay calm, maintain my breathing, and don't move. I begin to realize that there's nothing breathtaking about a forest besides its appearance under the pale moonlight. The forrest smells like a mixture of pine trees and deer carcass.

After a few minutes, I begin to make my way further into the forrest. The sirens gradually start to dim down as I go further and further into the trees. Suddenly, everything stops, including myself. No noise can be heard. Well, except for my heavy breathing. Fuck you, asthma.

I stop and sit on a tree stump. In case you didn't know, I'm not afraid of much. I rarely ever keep my mouth shut, so surely I don't fear punishment (well...I never used to). Sure, many people would fear of wolves and bears and even getting killed by a random axe murderer, but not me. The only thing I fear is being caught by the police and questioned and punished for something I never did.

With no noise around me, I smirk. I outran three cop cars going into this forrest, and now? Now they can't find me. I'm hidden. I'm free. There's no way they can track my location, because--

I stop thinking as soon as I hear a twig snap. Like I said, I don't have very much to be afraid of right now except for the police finding me, but paranoia somehow creeps its way into everybody's life; as if it lives in a part of everybody's mind and hides within the forrest of everybody's mind, but it only comes out during the most inconvenient times.

Another twig snaps. I see a beaming light. Shit. Now I see three beaming lights. Before I know it, there's eight flashlights all pointed towards me. I can't run away. I can't continue. My legs feel like cooked noodles and my lungs feel like a deflated red balloon after spending a week at the carnival, unused.

I've given up.

My thoughts have evaporated. I lift my hands up in the air before they read my rights and give me any orders. My time is up. I've given up and I've been caught. It's fine, though. I'll see their asses in court and the judge will let me free. I didn't hurt anybody. I didn't kill anybody. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and I did the worst thing I could have possibly done--I ran away unsuccessfully.