Running as fast as she can, bare feet slapping the cold hard ground. Clothes snagging on the thorn bushes; grabbing at her. Her arms and legs are torn open, bleeding. Hair dirty and ratted. Crescents of dirt lodged under her nails, and on he tear streaked face. Scared to death of what is coming. Cold wind stings her face and fills her lungs with ice, making it hard to breath... but she pushes on.
(Sometimes the only thing you can do is keep going)
She glances behind her, one quick second It's there... then its gone just as fast as it came; hiding and tracking, so stealth like you would have never known it was there... but she can feel it. She can also feel her legs slowing, they burn and ache. Its as if she has ran for miles. The stitch in her side has grown immensely, she gasps for air... but none will come. Her vision is blurred by the welling of tears, she knows, how could she not? Slowing to a stop she crumples to the ground before her. The trees reach out seemingly for protection. She sobs in exhaustion and fear, welcoming what comes next. She pulls her knees to her chest and looks up at the sky for recognition, the last thing she saw was the man on the moon smiling down on her. Then the shadows passed over her.
(Sometimes you cant help but give up.)
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