April 18, 2017
By Anonymous

I get anxious, and look around at the potential dangers that surround me. I get scared because they’re all out to get me. I walk quietly, blending in; they can’t see me. My heart beats faster, so hard I can hear it. My breath gets shallow. For a moment I don’t know where I am. I look around one more time; they’re all looking at me. They see me. Then silence. I dread knowing what’s coming next. I hear the roar. I run.

I run and look straight ahead. I don’t turn my head. Adrenaline pumps and my heart pounds like a drum. I tell myself “Don’t stop running!” because I have no other options. I hear one come up behind me. I see him approaching from the corner of my eye, trying to corner me. I can’t let him trap me! I think in a panic. Without hesitation, I run faster and don’t slow down. Not for a second. The shrieks from the world around me only get louder, as the world spectates this wild frenzy. All I can do is run faster until it ends. The air is dry. My throat is dry. I taste the metallic tang of blood. Is this ever going to end?

Then an idea. I swing my extremities in a wild fashion, a distraction and chance for me to get my space. They back off. They’re all breathing heavy. They’re getting tired. The end is near! I run faster and increase the space between me and my pursuers. I run as fast as I can make myself go until I reach that clearing, where I know they can no longer chase me. I make it.

My lungs and throat hurt. My legs are heavy and barely useful. I look back as they reach the boundary of safety. They stop running. They’re breathing heavy, exhausted just like me, the same pain as me. They scatter. The chase is over.

Why do I do this to myself? Would would a small, weak and defenseless being put himself in such a situation? Why not just stay home where it’s safe and peaceful? Because there’s no better high than the rush of fear.

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