Wet leaves slap my skin as I push past strings of broken branches, loosely tethered to the maples and oaks around them. My feet are struggling to grip the loose soil, mushing into pockets of mud, and slipping on mossy rocks- too wet to hold a grip. This forest hasn’t been explored yet, hasn’t had trails dug into its face, or streams carved in like the twisted smile of a Jack O’ Lantern. It lies untouched outside an all-boys school- a natural prison for some, but an escape route for me. I can feel my own heart racing; hear its voice scream in my ears, beating twice for every stride, and reminding me to keep running.  I don’t dare to look back, don’t dare to pause for a second and wonder if their still after me. My university sweater is now soaked with fear and dripping with sweat. Even the pen pocket on the side is now ripped and torn in two. “You five go this way; we’ll go left… he’s around here somewhere.” Oh god, I can hear them now. The unknown voice breaks through the stiff air like the crack of a wooden bat, a loud, shattering noise that demands the attention of all. My pace quickens, but I don’t know how long I can keep running, how if anything, I’m going to find my way out of this north eastern Jungle. My arms are already riddled with deep scratches and a ripened bruise, personal tokens from last night’s venture. Suddenly, an unrecognizable voice breaks through the air, “Hey guys the Dean will be really mad if we’re not back by 8, forget Ben, you know he’ll be back by morning.” I push on, their closer than I realized. I’m so exhausted, but I need to get a tad farther- to find a place to hide. I see a large oak, and my perfect hiding spot. Crouching in the thick brush close to it, I catch the slightest view of Charlie’s dark curls, bouncing away from where I stoop. I see more now, one, two, three boys, and all with their crimson sweaters. Their leaving- their going, turning away and heading back for the school. I wait for them all to vanish from my sight, for the minutes to pass until Tom begrudgingly follows, obviously discontented that he hadn’t had the chance to claw at my neck, bringing me back to the headmaster like a bad puppy,  already beaten and worn. Instead I wait and count the seconds, minutes, hours,  however long it takes until I know their gone. I stand back up, and lean against a tree to empty my shoe of dirt and rocks, a collection I’ve formed since this morning. I gaze into the trees around me, thinking about my next move and the future that lies beyond. But my thoughts are shattered when I hear a loud crunch behind me and Tom’s greedy laugh. My head bows- my attempted getaway has failed- it’s over.