It was mid-August; the heat was radiating off my body. The muggy air seemed to smack my skin in such a way- as if it could have made me any hotter. My calloused feet and toes dug their way into the smooth dirt as I ran.
The air whipped past my hair, smacking my cheeks as I sped on. Occasionally, an insect would hit my face as I ran, feeling like the syringes I would use.
At last, I fell to the grass, panting and out of breath. I turned around panickingly searching for my pursuer. My head was pounding, my calves shaking and my pores sweating. I stood up, raising my arms towards the sky in triumph and glee. Still breathing heavily, I began walking towards the tree.
Then, I felt a piercing pain in my side. An arrow was bent at an odd angle, sticking out as blood poured out of me. I looked up for what seemed to be the last time.
And there was my pursuer.