Asena
I run through the woods, breathing in ragged gasps. My heart is pounding so hard, it feels as if it will burst out of my chest soon.
I keep glancing at the bloodied knife, clutched in my hand, the blade glinting in the moonlight.
My lips quiver and I bite down hard on them, trying to stifle a sob. I will not cry.
I struggle to keep my footing on the uneven ground, my eyes darting back, searching for any sign of pursuit.
I will not cry.
I glance at the phone in my other hand, and thankfully I am still running in the right direction.
I will not cry.
He gave me no choice.
My legs are aching and my lungs are burning with exertion, but I do not stop running.
It is a question of time before they track me down.
I will not cry. I repeat over and over again.
A futile attempt. Te
