Trapped

            I run as fast as my legs will take me. They are chasing me, and though I don’t know why, I know I must escape. I see the dark forest up ahead and I know it’s my only chance. It’s almost pitch black and I can barely see, but still I run. My lungs burn and my legs ache, but I keep going. The brambles catch the skirt of my violet dress and threaten to trip me. I must not trip, I must not fall, I must not stop. The tree branches reach out like long fingers and grab my coppery hair, but still I do not stop. I cannot see now, and run blind through the forest.

            A tree root snakes out underfoot and I trip. They will catch me now. I’m sure of it. But ahead I see a glimmer of light. It is not much, but I can see by it. Quickly, I stand and run, ignoring the newfound pain in my ankle. Now it is I who chase that bit of light. It will save me. It must save me. Then I see it clearly and I almost fall again as I try to stop. Ahead of me, the forest cuts off and in its place is a wall of fire. I cannot go back; I would most certainly be caught. I cannot go forward, or I will burn. There is no escape. I am trapped.