Being chased is only fun in a game of tag. All my life I’ve been alone, but that’s what caused me to be strong, independent. Ever since I was little, I was raised by a white couple. At first they were nice, but once they say I was growing up and didn’t depend on them, they started treating me differently. Every morning I would go out and run in the corn fields, to plan my escape. But one night they caught me. They told me it was my last chance; I had to be brave and take what I could, and I ran.

The more you walk, the more you waste your time. Even though tonight is lonely and cold, I’m not going to stop. If I stopped running I know I could die. Don’t stop, don’t stop! My mind screams very time I think about stopping. I can’t do it, I’ve been running for hours straight, I know I’m tired. I have to stop! My mind screams. No! You run or you die …

But what can happen if I stop? I stop and I take in my surroundings. The moonlight shining on me, the autumn air moving my hair, the smell of the trees and flowers, the sound of the leaves crushing when I step on them. I close my eyes and fall to my knees, I take my face in my hands and cry. This is freedom, this is what freedom feels like. No more chores, or corn fields. Just freedom and beauty. Who’s there? I hear someone say from the bushes. I turn around and I see hunters with canines by their sides. I stand up tall and look at them with a fierce look on my face; showing them that I’m not afraid. One of the white men points a gun at my stomach and says: Why are you all alone in the woods, you puny slave? The men beside him laugh. I look at him straight in the eyes and I see that he is afraid. Afraid of a person like me? Well he should be … I punch him in the face and run. I run as fast as I could, I can hear their footsteps behind me; the canines barks taking over my hearing. I stop and drop to the ground, covering myself with mud. If I know one thing, it is to get rid of my odor when I have canines chasing me. I hide behind a tree and see the men run past me. I sigh and sit on the ground. I should really rest, it’s been a long day.

I have to be brave and run, run to live. I couldn’t cope with the fact that just because of my skin color I can’t have freedom. I can only have it for a brief moment. I wake up and I’m all alone, sitting under this maple tree. I sigh and tilt my head back; I see a bird. It starts to give the baby chicks some food, but when it’s done the bird leaves. Why would it leave? I hear some rustling and look up at the speed of light. The men from yesterday are in front of me holding three guns, one to my stomach, one to my arm, and one to my head. You should’ve never stopped! The point to being a runaway is to never ever stop! I close my eyes and take my last breath. All the memories from my childhood come back to me, I see the corn fields and the roses that Mrs. Collins would take care every Sunday. I could smell the autumn leaves and see the bright moonlight. I could hear the trees and the leaves rustling. Everything starts to get blurry, I can see a silhouette of a man before everything turns dark.