On The Run: A Short Story

As I ran, I began to feel exhausted, but I didn’t dare slow down. It was hard to breathe with the air so thick with smog, so I took deep gasping breaths and forced my legs to run faster. It was the middle of winter and still early morning, almost completely dark. Still, soon in the distance, I began to see the towering smokestacks of the textiles factory where I

Each step was more difficult than the last, my breathing became a fast-paced panting, my legs reluctant maintain my long stride. Doubts settled themselves in my mind, reminding me that I had never run long distance before, taunting me as I willed my legs to keep going. I had set out to own my run, but now I couldn’t bear the thought of enduring the rest of my last mile and a half.

Always Running is a narrative written by Luis J. Rodriguez because he wanted people to understand what life, is like out on the streets. Rodriguez witnesses his friends being killed, shot at and beaten down. He lived the lifestyle of a convict, stealing, doing drugs and learning to use a gun. Rodriguez didn’t know better than to be part of a gang and live the “thug life”. Language barrier, unemployment, poor education and family disinvolvement were some of the factors that had an impact in his involvement in gangs. Fortunately, help came his way and he was able to break the suppression of gang involvement and was able to better his life style.

“MUM! Wait!” I yell. My throat is sore, partly from the yelling, but mostly from the running. The thick, night fog blocked my vision of the path ahead completely, only allowing the occasional glow of the street lamps come in sight. I don't remember why I’m running or where I’m headed, just that something is about to happen. I trust my instincts to guide me through the maze of eerily empty streets.

“MUM! Wait!” I yell. My throat is sore, partly from the yelling, but mostly from the running. The thick, night fog blocked my vision of the path ahead completely, only allowing the occasional glow of the street lamps barely come in sight. I don't remember why I’m running or where I’m headed exactly, just that something is going to happen. Something bad; but what? I trust my instincts to guide me through the maze of eerily empty streets and parked cars. I thought I’d seen something move in the corner of my eye, that’s when I hear the deafening explosion to my right. I cower beneath my arms, ready to anticipate the blazing heat of the supposed flames. I don’t feel anything. I realize why. Towering above me, a pair of worried eyes cautiously

On July 20, 2017, at approximately 1507 hours, I responded to 1605 N John Young Parkway in reference to assisting Sgt. J. Ciola in making contact with Brandon Hiroshi Joseph (suspect). On July 19, 2017 at approximately 1545 hours, Sgt. J. Ciola attempted to conduct on a traffic stop on Brandon on Bill Beck Blvd, when he fled from him (see Sgt. J Ciola full report). Based on the aforementioned information Sgt. J. Ciola provided to me, Brandon was placed under arrest for Fleeing to elude with wanton disregard for the safety of the public under F.S.S. 316.1935(3)(a).

I’m running. I can’t scream, my lungs are burning and something is chasing me. I see a light at the end of the dark and gloomy hallway but it keeps getting farther no matter how fast I run. The thing behind me is getting closer, I can smell its rotten breath. All of the sudden I feel the sharp pain of broken glass burying in my feet. I fall onto the glass covered floor and finally a scream escapes my throat.

In Emergency Medical Technician school, you learn that when a patient is in critical condition they will feel an impending sense of doom before there body goes into complete shock. After this drastic change in behavior I sensed that his condition was about to get much worse. As he began to scream his evergreen eyes found mine. Our eyes were locked, and that’s when I watched them disappear like a sunset into the back of his head. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if it was my eyes that were the last thing he saw on Earth. Then he seized. All I remember thinking was that I had to get out of the

My heart began to race faster than a cheetah, my legs were numb, and I couldn’t tell whether or not I was actually running. The feeling of the crisp and hot summer air quickly entering my lungs felt rough, while the air was escaping even faster. As I struggle to look behind to see if he was close enough to get me I tried to exclaim while trying to grasp some air for my lungs, “Xouse, he’s gaining, on us, come on!”. As the hot asphalt burnt the bottom of my shoes off, I continued running into the alley of two apartment complexes as my cousin followed. I looked at Xouse, I saw the agony on his face, my vision went blurry, next thing I knew I was standing in front of a wall, with nowhere to go. I looked back to see if we were finally safe, and then I knew, I should have never left the by myself.

I’m alone in a dark, murky world. All I feel right now is cold, anxious, and…scared. I’m already too tired to run. I’m shaking within a pitch black world. Then I hear someone’s voice in the distance.

"Please just let me go, I don't want to die," The man shook his head just like me. I knew my only chance of escape was to run. So punched the man's face and started running, but the man was part of the top secret CIA mind control Division. So the police started chasing me, I ran right into the woods, suddenly there was a familiar pain to the one in that was in my back, but this time in my leg. I had just been shot. Yet I did not stop running because if I did, I would have been caught. I kept running for what felt like miles but then stopped before a massive cliff. I faced the police and the man.

I didn’t do it. I’m so weak. I need to resist the cops because they’re pushing me and I hate being pushed around. I don’t know why my legs don’t work. Maybe it’s because I’m so scared and confused and nervous. The seat was cold and door slamming was loud. It’s weird how I can’t hear anything but I know the door slamming was loud.

I woke up to a police officer yelling in my face. The ropes binding me are gone. I don’t understand anything going on around me. I’m on the floor of what looks like a pet store. All I know is that every single person around me is convinced that I killed the woman next to me. The officer that woke me up keeps asking me what happened, but I can’t tell him. I don’t know what happened. It’s not like he’s asking if i murdered this woman. He’s convinced I did. I’m already in handcuffs, they just don’t want to take me yet for whatever reason. Several long hours go by.

City of the deadAt the end of another lost highwaySigns misleading to nowhereCity of the damnedLost children with dirty faces todayNo one really seems to care. I read the graffitiIn the bathroom stallLike the holy scriptures of a shopping mallAnd so it seemed to confessIt didn't say muchBut it only confirmed thatThe center of the earthIs the end of the worldAnd I could really care less. I don't care if you don'tI don't care if you don'tI don't care if you don't care[4x]. To live and not to breatheIs to die in tragedyTo run, to run awayTo find what you believe. I lost my faith to thisThis town that don't existSo I run, I run awayTo the lights of

I lay in the center, listening to soft music my iPod or the birds lulling me into a deep meditation. It is in this spot that I’ve had the deepest conversations with myself, coming to realizations and understandings about my relationships to life, others, and me. The secluded stillness allows my brain to freely wander, explore, and reflect deep concepts coming to profound insights that further benefit me in this crazy journey I call life. The winds, curves, inclines, declines of the trail makes it a perfect path to jog on. The isolation from the outside world makes it easy for my mind to focus on nothing but the task at hand – which is making it all the way around the 3-mile trail without stopping. Although, most times this doesn’t happen because I’m so taken back by the surrounding beauty. I always stop to take in the deep blue sky or the butterflies fluttering gracefully through the field of wild flowers. But when I am running I feel virtually weightless physically and mentally. My mind is blank allowing me to become one with my surroundings. The feeling of the cool crisp air breezing through my hair relaxes me as I intensely run to the heart pumping music blasting through my headphones. The path winds throughout an open field into a forest where you come out by the base cemetery. Passing it constantly fills me with emotion, carrying not only the weight for