The cruelest part of this whole thing was the fact that I didn’t have shoes on. I was running for my life with branches grazing my arms, rocks scarring my feet and I was leaving a bloody trail for them to follow. And the only thing on my mind was that I didn’t even have shoes on. At this moment my life was not going how I thought it would have gone.
However as I was running through the forest I didn’t regret anything that I’ve done in the past hour. I don’t regret being chased, stabbed, or grazed by a bullet. I don’t regret what I did to them; I don’t regret anything except not wearing shoes.
Shouts, yells, and screams from the men behind me broke whatever trance I was in. All of a sudden I can’t even think everything outside my mind is such clarity. The luscious green leaves, the ridged brown branches, the patches of sun scatted about. The smell of pine, rain, and dirt. The sound of nothing but my footfalls and heavy breathing against the thunderous pounding of the men chasing me. The violent shouts of them yelling profanities mixed with the deadly sounds of bullets whipping past me.
Even though I know there’s no hope I pray for a miracle to save me. I scream at God to help me, to forgive my sins and redeem me. But I know he won’t listen, deep down I know he will turn a deaf ear to my pleas.
These men are faster and stronger and all I have is a head start. They are trained for this and I am only a armature. They even have shoes to wear while I am barefoot. I’m weak, I’m hurt, and my hope is plummeting down.
Then just like I’m hope I’m falling too. I hear a sickening crunch however I’m not sure if that was a tree branch or my foot. Whatever it was I know I am done for now.
On all fours I hear the sound of the aggressive footsteps getting louder and all of a sudden that is all I hear. Thump, thump, thump. My tears mix with my sweat and blood trailing down my face dripping onto the earth. Suddenly I notice how tired I am. How hopeless this all is, how much I know I’m not going to win, how hurt I am. Then without warning everything starts hurting, my feet, my arms, my legs, and my heart. I hang my head to tired to even hold that up anymore.
I stare at the ground, the dark moist dirt contaminated with my blood. The footsteps stop and I see seven pairs of boots around me. My breathing is still jagged and uneven but slowing down. My skin heavy and thick with sweat. My muscles aching and groaning with pain. They had boots, and I was barefoot, it wasn’t fair. I hear a click, and then I’m gone before I even hit the ground
