Status: Alive
Just Another Milk Carton Add
. o n e .
All I could do now was run, run as fast as possible for as long as possible just to see how far I'd get. I am very out of shape, though my frame is thin and lanky. I made my strides as big as I could, trying to widen the gap as best I could.
Something hard and smooth made contact with the sole of my bare foot. I stumble slightly, using my hands to push myself further. I stumbled a second time and pushed myself further, still. A third time I stumbled, so exhausted by now I just lay there, face down on the dirt path. Faintly in the distance there were bobbing flashlights and male voices calling my name.
One voice, in particular became louder than the rest. I mustered my remaining strength and threw myself into the wheat stalks to my left. He was getting closer I could hear his footsteps. I could hear his panting and his clear voice calling my name. I held my breath so I wouldn't give myself away. He called my name again, his voice caring and familiar though I knew the darkness behind it. He was why I was running. He is why I had to leave everything behind me.
Suddenly the footsteps stopped. The flashlights turned in my direction causing me to push myself farther into the wheat field. Then, as quickly as it searched, the light was gone, the footsteps retreated and the voices ceased. They'd given up. I'd broken from my prison and I was free, for now anyway. Tonight though, I was a prisoner of fear, a more brutal warden then my last one was.
Something hard and smooth made contact with the sole of my bare foot. I stumble slightly, using my hands to push myself further. I stumbled a second time and pushed myself further, still. A third time I stumbled, so exhausted by now I just lay there, face down on the dirt path. Faintly in the distance there were bobbing flashlights and male voices calling my name.
One voice, in particular became louder than the rest. I mustered my remaining strength and threw myself into the wheat stalks to my left. He was getting closer I could hear his footsteps. I could hear his panting and his clear voice calling my name. I held my breath so I wouldn't give myself away. He called my name again, his voice caring and familiar though I knew the darkness behind it. He was why I was running. He is why I had to leave everything behind me.
Suddenly the footsteps stopped. The flashlights turned in my direction causing me to push myself farther into the wheat field. Then, as quickly as it searched, the light was gone, the footsteps retreated and the voices ceased. They'd given up. I'd broken from my prison and I was free, for now anyway. Tonight though, I was a prisoner of fear, a more brutal warden then my last one was.