Running is a fantastic concept. Feeling the wind whip your hair and your muscles pumped with drive as you propel yourself forward is a beautiful, beautfiul feeling.
It's just that the concept is above the bar of the actual action. Jogging is great for the first few minutes, but afterwards you become aware of your lungs screaming for more air that your panting is unable to satisfy, and of your muscles burning of pain. You can feel sweat trickle into places that should never be sweaty. It's because of this that I don't run for recreation often.
But I'm not running for fun right now. I'm running for my life.
I turn past a large tree, concentrating on my flow of breathing. Adrenaline pumps my entire body forward, allowing my feet to bounce off the ground as fast as they touch it. I don't know how long I've been moving -- it could have been a few minutes or a few hours. But my body couldn't handle it for much longer.
"Why don't you give up already" One of my pursuers shouts from behind.
Because I don't want to die. I think to myself but don't dare say out loud. I lack too much breath to be able to speak.
"Too chicken to reply?" Another one hollers, but his voice is much closer. I don't dare to look back -- I push my body, my legs, to go faster.
But my body is already past its limit. I can't go quicker than I am now. Yet, if I am to survive, I must.
"You've been running for a while. You need to take rest."
I look to my right on instint, and am equally afraid and surprised at what I see. A boy, probably a couple years younger than I, runs next to me, copying my movements to the exact second. His clothes are somewhat clean but free of tears, and his eyes are full not of malice, but of happiness and reverence. This person is not one of my pursuers.
I face forward again, trying to analyze my surroundings for any obstructions. "I know,"I murmur.
"Have you been here before?" He asks, never pausing.
How can you talk normally while running? I shake my head.
"Well, I can show you a place to rest. The way we'll take will definitely thorw off the people chasing you."
I am about to nod my head, but I stop myself. This could be a trap.
I jump off a small cliff onto wet, dark brown mulch. I roll several times, and when I finally stop moving, I cannot forcemyself to get up to run again. I am physically and mentally incapable of pushing myself off the ground and then pushing my feet off.
The boy lands next to me and grabs my arm. At first, my senses go alert and I start fighting back, but he slaps my cheek and pulls me back. "I'm trying to save your life, you jerk."
He pulls himself and I into a ditch behind us, hidden by the shadow of the small cliff above. I start taking large, loud breaths, but the person puts a hand overmy mouth and hisses, "Are you stupid? Do you want to give ourselves away?"
A growl appears at the back of my throat, but instead of letting is loose, I concetrate on taking shallow but frequent breaths.
Humanoid shadows are cast over us, marching close to our hiding place. A voice full of anger screams, "Where could have that bitch gone? We weren't that far behind her!"
One person crouches down and pats the earth. "It's rained her recently. We should be able to see her tracks."
A strangled noise erupts from my thorat, and the boy's hand encloses tighter on my lips.
