He was running. He felt the sharp rocks and uncomfy grass as he ran through the woods. the ripped up trainers he had were severely torn. He had no car. Just himself. He was out of breathe. Panting heavily.

He was being chased. He thought it was his friend. But he did not know anymore. All he knew was he was alive. All he knew was he was okay; he thought so anyways, causally ignoring the large cut on his knee, that was bleeding rapidly like time. He also ignored the dire bruise on his head. These were both from tripping while running.

He tiredly rubbed his dull brown eyes. He began to focus on figuring where he was. He heard birds tweeting, crickets crawling.

He tried to scan where he was to see if he recognised anything ; it was no luck. unfortunately, There was nothing recognisable in his poor little sight. His hair blew in the wind. Getting in his eyes. He shook his head irritated and anxiously.

He was lost. He was lost, alone. He had a bulky, thick, magnanimous branch in his hand. He angrily snapped it, the branch made a loud crack nose loud as wood splints came out. He forcefully threw it and started started screaming. “This is what happens when you get chased” he screeched.You could he the frustration in his voice, and see it in his eyes. “SHIT!!” He yelled. It echoed. He knew he was alone…