My lungs burn, my muscles ache, my head pounds, everything inside of me begs me to stop. But I can't, can't stop running. If I stop, I die.
I feet the intense stinging over and over as twig after twig snaps into my skin, as thorns tear at my bleeding flesh, but I keep going. I want to glance behind me, but I don't dare. I can hear him behind me, hear his heavy breathe and his gentle, yet quick footsteps on the leaves behind me, counteracting my heavy, crashing ones. He has the home field advantage, he knows these woods, I do not.
I realize it too late. I had been too preoccupied with the thoughts of the man behind me that my mind never registered the sound of rushing water ahead. If I was smart I would have turned, started running left or even right, anywhere that would put distance between me and him. But I'm not, I hesitate, just long enough for him to catch up.
Within a second I can feel his strong arm wrapping around my throat, squeezing tight, but not tight enough so that I can't breathe. He doesn't want to kill me yet, he wants me to suffer.
"You saw to much," comes his quiet, sinister whisper. He chuckles softly, then gradually his chuckle gets louder and turns into a hysterical fit of laughter. "and now you're gonna pay."
It dawns on me that this amuses him. It was fun, it was sport, he loves it. He doesn't want it to end too quickly. I close my eyes, bracing myself for the hours of terror that are to come before I will finally be given the privilege of taking my last breathe. I feel the sharp sting of a knife blade as it is pressed against my stomach.
I feel my heartbeat quicken, I can hear it thudding in my ears, pounding against my head. I feel sick to my stomach, I just want to collapse and throw up and pass out right there at the same time.
This is it. There is nothing beyond this. I had thought that I had felt this emotion before, but no, whatever I had felt before were just mere imitations of the real thing. This is shear terror. This is true fear.
1. I couldn't hold back anymore, "I thought you were my friend!" I shouted.
2. I sat in the classroom, staring at the board.
3. It's not MY fault that my parents are super heroes
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