I gasp for breath and struggle to stay on my feet as I round the corner, running as fast I can. I’m holding Emily’s hand and gripping it so hard I’m scared I might cut off the blood supply to her fingers. I glance back as I run to make sure she’s ok. There are tears welling up in her precious amber eyes as she struggles to keep up. I want to comfort her, tell her everything will be alright but deep down, I know that’s not true.

Red lights swirl overhead and alarms blare in our ears so loud I think I’m going deaf. Yellow ceiling lights flicker uncertainly and dark shadows loom at every turn.

I keep running, faster and faster and faster. I can’t stop, I can’t slow down. Our lives depend on it.

As I run, a million and one thoughts race through my mind but one thought proves stronger and more prominent than the others.

Keep. Running.

I’m all out of breath now, gasping and stumbling over my own two feet but I refuse to let go of her hand. Even if I die here, I must save her. I must give her a chance to live, a chance to live in freedom. A chance I never got.

I stumble around another corner, almost tripping, and collide with another person. I can’t see his face but he grabs my shoulder with an iron grip and I can feel Emily’s hand slip out of mine.

I feel the cold metallic end of a dagger against my throat and I instinctively point my head to the roof. The weapon reeked with the smell of blood and I could feel its edge begin to slowly pierce my skin.

The only smell stronger than that of the blade is the one of the man holding it. Tobacco, tequila and smoke. A scent I had known all my life. The scent of my father, of my rapist, and my soon to be murderer.

I look at my daughter, standing in front of me, frozen in place with fear written all over her face in permanent marker. Her eyes are as beautiful as ever but they look broken, shattered, as if they have witnessed every type of cruelty known to mankind; and indeed, they have.

I take a shaky breath, my last breath, and utter one last thing to her…

“Run.”