Running. Heart beating fast, breath heavy in my lungs, sprinting far, far away. I had to get away. I really have no clue what is going on, I just know I can’t be a part of it. Yet how long could I keep going anyway? Surely I’d stumble and fall, or pass out because my bent-out-of-shape-lungs aren’t gathering enough oxygen for the rest of me. But I had to keep going, and I needed to go fast. This is crazy…things like this only happen in dreams.

My steps pitter-patter on the dark pavement as I make my way down to the library. It really is a long way to walk, five miles at least. Why was I even going to the library? And at the crack of dawn? I squinted over the horizon to see the sun peeking over the mountaintops, making my journey just a little less black. The air was cool and I could smell the seasons changing in the early September air. It’s one of those smells you really can’t explain… Like when you can smell the rain—before it rains; or the snow—before it snows. I guess I could smell the leaves before they fall, the pumpkins before they grow, and the air before this whole place freezes over.

As I continue my way, pondering the different smells of the seasons and what not, I hear something. It’s barely audible over the chilling wind, but it’s there. Footsteps. I hear footsteps. I guess it wouldn’t be that strange of a thing normally, but I could feel some sort of dread as the footsteps quickened. I wouldn’t dare look around to see who it was, then they’d know I knew they were there. So slowly I worked my way up to a jog—pretending to be doing it on purpose (you know, for health and stuff). But as I hastened my pace, so did they. Panic washed over me in one terrifying wave, chilling me even more than the bitter autumn air. I urged my legs to move, yet again, even faster in hopes that I could at least out run them. It didn’t work, I could feel them getting less distant—what did they want from me? What is going on? Why did I decide to go to the library at the crack of dawn ANYWAY!?

I could feel my breathing getting sharper and more erratic, but I had to keep going. They were only feet behind me at this point, and I figured if I died, I’d rather it be from exhaustion than a bloody axe murderer. I was reaching the tunnel—had this tunnel always been here?—and on the other side was a small town. I sprinted towards it as fast as I could in hopes that someone in the large amount of people would do something. I passed through the tunnel and into the little town screaming for help, but the strangest thing happened… they all acted like I wasn’t even there. I bellowed and bellowed but they just went on doing what they were doing, like I wasn’t even there. I turned around to see where my pursuer was, and gasped to see him at the foot of the tunnel, standing, just staring at me. Slowly he started walking towards me, and as he did I stumbled backwards searching for an escape. I glanced over to an open door and all but sprung into it.

The house was crowded, but I made my way up the closed in stairs and into a room. I slammed it shut and locked it, I looked around the room quickly, surveying my exit options. I noticed the play pen, cradle, and oodles of stuffed animals. I’d assume the room of a two or three year old. I opened the only window in the room and looked down. I was three stories from the ground. It didn’t look like a very smart escape route, but if worst comes to worst, I could jump and attempt a landing in the little patch of grass to my—

Just then something (or someone) hit the door with a bang. They’d found me. I looked around the room for some kind of defense, but of course, it was a children’s room. I closed my eyes tightly and waited until I heard the final crash into the door that brought it tumbling down. And as it fell, so did I, letting my fears go I leaned backwards out of the window, falling heavily towards the ground.

I woke up with a thud, breathing heavy in big gulps, trying to get any form of air that I could. Tears stung the corners of my eyes, and I could still feel the terror of the night. My legs ached as if I actually was running, and my head screamed as if I actually landed on that thin patch of grass… or the concrete. I turned the light on and grazed my room expectantly, finding nothing, I turned them back off. I don’t know what I was expecting, things like that only happen in dreams.