Nowhere to Go

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
a short story about a girl who is trying to escape from the thing(s) chasing her

Submitted: January 16, 2019

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Submitted: January 16, 2019

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I don’t know where to go. My legs burn and my chest hurts and my lungs ache and my entire body screams for me to stop, but I just keep running. I have to keep running. If I don’t, they’ll catch me.

I pull at the zipper on my red jacket and pull my hood over my head, as if it’ll protect me. But I know somewhere deep down inside that it won’t. Nothing can protect me.

I don’t know how long I’ll need to keep this up, but I know I won’t be able to for much longer. I’m growing more and more tired by the second.

I’m not fast enough. I’ll never be fast enough.

I run past abandoned dilapidated buildings whose walls are caving in and playgrounds that are rusty and lonely and streets that are silent and bare and eerie. There is no sign of life. Just emptiness and regret.

I feel hollow.

My legs are cold in my blue jeans and I wish I had worn something warmer.

I wish I could silence the sound of my feet hitting the ground as I sprint, but the sound just continues to ring in my ears and make my head ache. It’s the only sound in a world of silence.

I turn the corner by an old fast food restaurant. The pole that once held golden arches is bent and sagging, and the red and yellow of the building that used to be vibrant is faded and chipped and worn. There’s a hole in the side so I can see that the tables and chairs are just exactly as they once were, just covered with dirt and dust now. Waiting for customers.

Customers that will never come.

I keep running, though I want nothing more than to be able to stop.  But I can feel them now, closing in on me. I clench my jaw and try to run faster, but I’m already going as fast as I can go.

I don’t even know how long I’ve been running, but I know it’s been a while, because I’m almost to the edge.

As I get closer and closer to the edge, the buildings are more and more spread out until they’re scarce and there are fields between them. The fields were once green, but now they’re a yellowish-brown and just full of death.

Will I end up like that?

I can see the edge now – the line where what exists and what has ceased to be has been drawn. It’s defined by a wall of cloudy air.

I don’t know what to expect, and now that I’m almost there, I start to panic. Can I run right across the edge, to the other side?

Or will I be trapped here, captured by my chaser, with nowhere to go?

I can’t breathe.

My shoe has come untied and the lace flies up and slaps my ankle with every step. I can’t stop now to tie it. The edge is close to me now – just fifty feet away.

Forty.

Thirty.

Twenty.

Ten.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

I hit the barrier that defines the edge and fall backwards onto the ground. My entire body aches as I pull myself up and stand once more. I throw my fists against the barrier. I have to get through. I have to escape.

But I can’t, and there’s nowhere to go.

There’s nowhere to hide.

I turn around to accept defeat, and my pursuer is already standing there. And she’s wearing a red jacket and blue jeans and black converse with the left shoe untied.

“Sam,” she says, “You can’t run from yourself forever.”


© Copyright 2019 Kaylyn Marie. All rights reserved.

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