And then they took our hands

Once upon a time, in the dark, dark night, among tall trees, just people of the best sight could see me crawling through the pile of leaves, scratching my pale skin on twigs, not caring about bloody fingers and nails, running from someone. But who was I running from? If you find newspaper articles about it, don't read them, they contain some pretty big spoilers. My mind was full of nothing but the desire to disappear. My legs were shaking and I couldn't hold loud breathing, asking god how many kilometers I have to crawl more. There wasn't any part of my body not aching, but the thought of Isaak, my best friend, being in danger pushed me away every time I even thought to stop and turn myself to fate. And his words were playing all over again in my head. „Don't let me die in some embarrassing way." It was Monday. September. Forest carried the smell of rain from the day before and every now and then, I saw a snail just doing whatever they do and thought to myself: you don't give a f**k, your best friend isn't in deep s**t. They didn't even know Isaak. God, how lucky are people that never met him. Of course, those people were always missing something incredible, but in a few moments, when I stopped to take a break I felt my body giving up. „Quinn, you can't be smarter than us. I thought you learned that", the voice of a man and a gunshot missing me for a centimeter. But for explaining the story of men shooting at me, searching the forest that Monday, I have to take you back.