March 22, 2010
The leaves tickle my feet as they fall to the ground. The wind blowing my hair all around; strands sticking to my wet cheeks. I brush it all off my face and sit up.
The clouds are coming in- the sun yielding itself to night. I should head in soon. The autumn air is creeping deeper into my bones.
Headlights flash across my eyes, uh-oh. The slow crunch of gravel under tires haunts me and I hear the echo of a truck door slam. I recognize the deep green paint of the car, the person treading closer every second.
I can't deal with this again. It's gotten to be too much. Too fast.
I'm not going to deal with it. I won't.
Gathering my wits, I gather my things and run. Running deeper and deeper into the dark woods, and I'll never look back.

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