I'm patiently waiting for it to leave. Slowing my breath, praying that it won't find me. I struggle to find hiding spots. It feels like I can only be safe for 5 minutes at a time, before it comes and rips my serenity away, slowly peeling away my hope for survival.
Surreptitiously, it preys, waiting for my defense to weaken, hoping another one of my hiding spots is unveiled. At first, I was determined to win, fighting at every time possible. At this point, I still try my best to fight it, to win the battle, but it won't be long before it finds me.
Maybe, just maybe, something better will find me first. But I won't hold my breathe.
YOU ARE READING
Hiding
Non-FictionSo I've been going through my old google drive and found another creative writing piece that could be considered finished. Though of course, that's up for interpretation, so let me know what you think. This is yet another piece that gives just a sma...
