A New Type of Realism

(8) An Awful Lot of Running

"On three?"

"Sure."

"...THREE!" I yelled as I pushed the door open and sprinted towards the embrace of certain death. It was strange, but the closer I came, the more void I became of negative emotion.

I didn't care.

I could get seriously hurt in seconds...

...and somehow I felt invincible.

I smirked, and ran faster.

........................................

I tried not to look around me as I ran, I didn't want to shatter the trance like state that I'd entered. I kept my gaze focused on the building that I was running to. The edges of my peripheral vision began to darken and fade, consumed by an inky blackness that I preferred not to be broken. It provided me with the notion that I was 'safe'. I was in my own little bubble, a world without the infected. I couldn't see them, so like a child playing 'peek-a-boo, my deluded brain naturally assumed that they didn't exist. I had been lulled into such a false sense of security that I could completely block out the infecteds' mangled hands that clawed out to me.

The border that consumed the edges of my vision also provided me with slight comfort. It was the fact that, if the worse came to the worst, I wouldn't have to watch my friend, Kyle, die. He a little way behind me, as he was slowed down by the disadvantage forced upon him by age. My own death suddenly seemed a little less ominous, although, only slightly, I wasn't completely deluded.

The long grass scratched my legs where bare skin was exposed between my trousers and my socks. Crystals had formed on the blades of green, making the name not just metaphorical, but literal. The ice that had broken off of the blades sat and melted on my skin, creating the sensation of dripping liquid that could just have easily have been blood. I didn't care to check.

The wind blew into my face, as if it were trying to stop me from achieving my goal of finding my way to safety. It was as though Mother Nature herself was against me. She had cursed us with death, viruses and sickness, and now she wanted payback for how we had polluted and destroyed her creation of paradise. She was ablaze with rage. The wind was the messenger that brought word of her fury. I heard its roar in my ears, as the rumble penetrated deep into my head, truly delivering its message.

Tears formed in my eyes as a result of running headlong into this deadly messenger. My aviators had long gone, having been left behind in the car as I'd realised how truly impractical they were. I regretted not bringing them with me, as the tears cascading down my cheeks were impairing my vision. If I wasn't careful, not only would I run into the messenger's arms, but I would run headlong into the arms of an infected.

I wiped the salty water from my eyes with an arm that had been swinging by my side in an attempt to propel me forwards to make me run faster. There seemed to be no point in my doing so, as moments later, my eyes were drowning once again.

My breathing rate had shot through the roof. I t didn't help to find that each exhale was snatched away by the rush of the wind. Every time I opened my mouth to inhale, the air was forced in. It was as though I was being forced fed the very atmosphere in which I had lived peacefully my whole life.

All in all, the journey through the wet grass was not one I would come to view favourable if I lived long enough to reflect upon my current situation with hindsight.

I had been so focused on trying to urge myself to keep running, that I hadn't noticed the fast approaching brick wall. I was brought back swiftly to reality by Kyle's booming voice telling me to 'watch out'. I brought my hands out to try and stop my imminent impact, but my speed had been too great, and the time to react, too short. Soon, the inevitable happened. I braced myself for the impact as I collided with the wall.