My American Dream

Chapter 3

I could feel the wooden floor under my feet as I quietly shuffled them across the spacious gymnasium.                

A blue balloon floated down beside me from the ceiling above. For some reason, unknown to me, it bore the number 13 on its face in white, permanent marker.

Pushing a decorative banner out of the way, I glanced back to see if I was being followed.

No one....yet.

I ducked my head lower, trying to appear unnoticeable among the crowd. 

I hoped the dimmed lights and loud, electronic music would make my compelling escape easier.

I heard a laugh come from a couple in the red curtain photo booth. To my surprise they spoke English between giggles.

I was too distracted to see who it might be.

My surroundings were all familiar, yet still unrecognizable.

I had no idea where I was, nor how I got here.

I just knew, I had to leave.

"Kate," I heard a husky voice call.

I turned around to see a faceless, broad figure making its way towards me.

Pulling my long, flowing dress up to my knees, I dashed out of the room, evading dancing couples like a dog going through poles in the Westminster Championship.

The dark figure gained quickly, shoving unexpected couples out of the way.

I headed out the emergency exit door, picking up my pace. 

My feet sunk into the muddy ground beneath me. At every step, more dirt stuck to my black heels.

I shouldn't have worn these heels, I scolded myself.

I was burning in my layers of clothing, sweat began to pour down my forehead.

Not many people were around, only a few couples who had come outdoors to escape chaperones. 

No one seemed to notice

Which I'm partially grateful for as I looked like a clown on stilts trying to run in my heels.

It was fairly hot outside, especially considering how late into the evening it was.

The sunset looked beautiful over the wheat field I fled through.

However, I didn't stop to admire it, I couldn't afford to.

I ducked my head, trying to avoid the strong wind blowing directly into my face.

The male shadow of a figure gained quicker. I still didn't recognize him.

I could hear his feet pounding on the ground, steadily growing louder.

Why am I running from him? I wondered. Who even is he?

"Stop running," he ordered, virtually shouting the words through gasps for air. 

I didn't listen, urgently picking up my already hurried speed to avoid even speaking to whoever followed.

I would yell back, but I was too low on breath.

He was fast.

My heart pounded hard, I could taste warm, rushing blood in my dry mouth.

I sprinted into traffic, a red sports car squealing to a stop to avoid an accident.

"Sorry, sorry," I said.

Although I knew they couldn't hear me, I wanted to express my apologies. I was just trying to get away.