Personal Narrative: Running

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Running.

Running was the only thing I could process doing at the moment.

He was following me slowly, as if we were in a horror movie.

It's so much scarier being chased by a person almost ambling and knowing where you were the whole time in real life than the movies.

I stopped in front of my door and fumbled with the handle, quickly opening it and shutting it right in his face.

Why?

Why me?

And good God, why now?

I sighed as I raced over to my closet. I grabbed my bag and began filling it with clothes and valuable items. I wondered how I was so calm as I began to understand. The hours of drilling and training made my actions and current moments only feel like a training.

I shook my head and came back to
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