Being Chased

A short story about escaping the clutches of addiction.

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My heart beat wildly in my chest. Landing after each leap into the air jars my slender frame. Branches whip my face and torso as I tear through the underbrush. My lungs burn and my chest cavity heaves for blessed oxygen. I desperately attempt to put space between myself and my pursuer. I pump my fist, knees raised - my stride wide and purposeful as I try to reign in my breathing. Bounding over bushes and sprinting through the leave-strewn forest floor it occurs to me... I can't stop. I don't plan to become a slave again...