There I was, running through the woods, my arms, legs and naked body torn to shreds from the brush. I must have been running for hours, I had lost track and my fear was so intense I had no way of telling time. I stopped for a minute, my heart pounding so loud in my head that I couldn’t think straight. What was happening to me? How did I get here? All I remember is waking up on the ground to the sound of a gunshot. I looked up and there were three men standing over me. One of them told me I have ten minutes to run. Were they hunting me? I think they were.
I must have been drugged, as that’s all I can remember and the entire fog is just now starting to lift. I look down at my body. I have bruises everywhere, and blood dripping from multiple wounds. It appears I may have been whipped. The pain is hardly noticeable because of the fear welling up inside. I try to calm my breathing so I can listen. I don’t hear anything in the woods around me. Its daylight, so I look around. Nothing. Were they chasing me? Were they able to see me now? What the hell is going on?
A branch cracks somewhere in the distance and I piss down my leg from the fear. My heart races again and I know what prey must feel like when it is being hunted by a lion. I try to listen but I can’t stop my labored breathing. I know I have to keep running. But I can also feel their eyes on me. I know its useless to run. I hear another crack of a branch, this time closer. I decide I have to try to run. I don’t have any sense of direction, but I forge ahead anyway. Or is this the way I came from? Will I end up running right into them?
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