I never knew I had this sort of speed. People always say that though…That you never know how strong you are, or how fast you can run…until something is chasing you.
My feet pound the earth. I dodge trees instinctually before I even see them. The darkness has a weight around me; like a heavy blanket, threatening to smother me. Limbs and bushes tug at me, catch my clothes and hair, trip my feet; as if they’re on his side, bending to his will. I think there should be noise around me. Animals, wind, the sound of pursuit? But no, I run through pure silence, nothing but the rapid, panicked beating of my heart. It is as if my heart knows this is the end, as if it’s trying to get in as many beats as it can before it is stilled. I trip over something, but continue crawling away as I hit the ground; scrambling to get my feet. The leaves beneath my hands are damp and coarse; not at all like the leaves I played in as a child, tossing them above my head, and falling into a pile. The silence suddenly breaks. I hear its (or rather his) focused approach, his paws heavy but quick. I don't see him yet, then again I wouldn't until it was too late. I freeze, like any prey would, terror racing through my veins, my every nerve on end, but I am unable to move. His breathing is deep and steady; he can smell me. Frantically searching the darkness, I am desperate to lay eyes on him, even though— it is true that— if I can see him, he can see me. More seconds pass by, or are they minutes? I realize I no longer hear the heavy paws, I no longer hear the deep breaths. I think back to all the horror movies endured on October nights with my brother, popcorn flung from my lap when the killer leaps out. What was it my brother would always say…? “The morons always forget to look in the most important place…Up.” The thought comes too late, because when I do slowly bring my eyes up— breath held, eyes wide, legs trembling—…beautiful golden eyes stare down at me from the darkness. Like a dark angel, that doesn’t give me time to scream.