Running

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America's pov

I felt leaves, grass, and mud under my feet for the first time in years.
I would've enjoyed the sensation of the light breeze on my face longer, if I wasn't running for my life.

Hey, remember the times when you and Canada would adventure in the woods and pretend y'all were explorers. But France didn't want to venture too far so she could call you back for supper.

Act now.
Think later. Thinking now might get me hurt, or killed.
Run, keep running. Don't trip. Make sharp turns. Try to lose them.

I glanced over my shoulder.
Damn it.
They're still chasing me.
But I'm the one gaining ground.
Good.
Keep up this speed and I'll finally be free.

I can hear the dogs barking and people yelling.
They aren't that far away
Oh God, no.
I have to pick up my speed.
I gotta keep going.
My legs are getting tired, but I have to keep on going.











After hours of running, fighting, twisting around corners, and hiding.
I finally lost them.
I took gasping breaths trying to refill my lungs with sweet air.
My body was sore, my feet were raw and bleeding, my face stung with cuts by running into branches and bushes.

I know they'll still be searching for me.
Another thing I know is...

I'm free.

My lungs felt like they were on fire.
My throat and mouth is dry.
















I need water.

I walk in a aimless direction hoping to come across a stream of fresh water. The sun is blocked by the tall tree tops, so I can only hope my internal compass is right.

Once I finally stumble upon a stream of fresh water I didn't hesitate to dive right in.
This will throw them off my trail. And I also needed to cool down.
I let the water wash over my tired, sore, bartered body.
I felt the waves cleanse my skin
I drank the cool, refreshing water I've been longing for.
I have to keep moving though.
My life depends on it.

I have to make it to the Safe Haven.

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