Walking away, she refused the urge to look back. Her neck begged her to turn, her mind incesently willed her to turn around. She couldn't go back. Her friend grabbed her wrist. She tugged away from the iron grip, making her painfully aware of the nails diggining into her skin. Further, they continued, each step faster than the last. Soon they were running. And by the end of the world she forgot what they were running from.
