Run

There was no way he could do it. The boy ran, he couldn’t hold himself. His legs burned and his chest ached, feeling as if an enlightened hammer had been let fall over his head, and feeling the impact transcend all over his persona before being hanged from his neck. But he already knew that.

No, he said to himself, I cannot abandon, he continued. Not letting any of the hard muscles that were already damaged stop him, the boy gave his last effort in a rush of adrenaline and mixed emotions. He jumped. His legs lunged forward as his arms traced backwards to create momentum. His eyes watered and let themselves to the pain, bursting in tears so salty he could not even taste them without feeling pain in the tip of his tongue. The gap was wide, very wide, but he did not let in to fear, for what chased him he feared most.

He felt the thuck of his feet touching new ground. Concrete so hard and humid he almost slipped, had that happened he would not fall into the void, instead his nose would meet an abrupt interruption in its most primal functionalities. But strong was the boy’s will, for he did not let gravity grasp his blood, nor the concrete taste his skin.

A sudden yell almost destroyed the poor boy’s ears. It was harsh and threatening. The first thing in the boy’s mind when he heard such atrocious noise was the screech of a train trying to break off of its rails; metal molting and fighting as heat rises with the friction sent forth by the actions of an ill intended driver and a not-well treated machine lusting revenge on those who did not had compassion with her gears through the pass of the decades.

The boy did not turn back. No. He did not dared even think about seeing what could produce such threatening scream. The fear for the leap was far less present than what he felt when the noises started ringing in the dungeon. Metal bars clashing all around, almost as if someone was trying to make him sure of where he was. The boy kept running, he did not pay mind to the hands emerging from in between said bars, although it felt like it, that wasn’t a prison. No. It was a coliseum; an arena to bring death to the unfortunate ones. But he was just a boy, who put him there in the first place?

He kept running, not wanting to recognise the undeniable fate. He kept running, ignoring the piercing pain his legs and chest provoked on him.

He ran, until he didn’t.