I was running away from my troubles and worries. I knew they wouldn't go away at all though. I guess, I was running away from a subconscious thing. No, it's more powerful. It was fate. I was running away from fate while testing it.
In my right hand was a long and sharp kitchen knife. One that your parents would hide even if you weren't suicidal. I was running faster than the wind, with a knife in my hand. Sad thing was, I was holding the knife on purpose.
If I fall then it was fate that had already made the decision and if I didn't fall then it wasn't in fate's will for me to fall and most likely bleed out. If I fall, I'll die, unless someone saves me. But who would save a wordless waste of space like me? Doesn't matter if I was even a model, they wouldn't save me for I was running deep into the forest.
I was running and running and... Shit. I tripped on air and I began to fall. I closed my eyes and prepared myself for death. But death missed by a hair. For fate had its wicked and twisted ways. It was fate's will for me to fall. For me to fall but to be caught by another. He had caught be. He was my life support or maybe he was the drug.
