Running

I keep running. Running from the pain, running from the fear, running from the unknown.

My heart pounds as if it will explode, but I can never stop. I am out of breath and the air is gone, but it is nothing compared to what I face if stop to breathe. My feet are raw from the ground beneath me, but if I stand still, the glass I am running on will just cut into me further. I will never stop.

I can hear it following me. That monster that has kept me from stopping will never stop either. It's claws feel so close to my skin; it seems to be getting closer. I run even faster, but nothing seems to keep it away. What did the monster look like again? I have been running for so long that I don't remember anymore. I cannot turn around to look, as that will only slow me down. Perhaps it is better not to remember.

The day blur together. Every day is the same chase. Every day is filled with the same overpowering fear. The land in front of me changes a little, but I only care what is right behind me. I look forward to the days when there is shade from the sun, and the nights when the wind is a little calmer. I can never really remember those days, however. All I know is the unforgiving desert in front of me.

Maybe what I am trying to escape from is not as bad as it seems. Maybe I could stand up to it. Maybe I could fight it off. Perhaps the pain is merely a bad dream. Perhaps the monster chasing me is only in my mind. But the fear is overwhelming.

So I keep running.