The Chase

 My heart is beating faster than it has ever done. My body is filled with adrenaline as I turn to one of the many allies on the street. The only thing running through my mind at this moment is "don’t get caught". I can hear the man’s heavy panting getting closer with every step he takes. He’s shouting for me to stop. I can’t because stopping would mean death for me.

A metal fence blocks me from running to the next alley. One would pause to think of their next move. I unfortunately have no time for that.

I climb up the fence as fast as I can.  The blood on my hands adding more difficulty to the task. I slip a few times but manage to jump to the other side before he reaches me. We make brief eye contact before I sprint down the alley again. I saw the desperation in his eyes. Him wanting to get to me, but couldn’t.

I hear the man shout “I’m not going to hurt you!”.

I don’t believe those words.

They are never true. Never true when he’d get mad at me for not doing the smallest tasks. Never true when he’d bash my head on the wall for going outside without his permission and they were most certainly never true when the kitchen knife had been lodged between his chest. Both my hands shaking from fear and satisfaction.

His eyes staring at me in shock, him rasping the words “How could you”. Before tumbling to the ground. Those words were never true.

A minute later and my lungs are already burning. I’m not used to this amount of running and my body is screaming from how out of shape I am. But I don’t stop, I can’t.

I don’t know how far I’ve run or where I even am at this moment.

Finally stopping, I notice there are no streetlights around me. My only source of light comes from building windows on both sides and car lights that flash in the distance. There is a small second when I think I’m in the clear, when I think the man has stopped chasing me. That thought is short lived when I hear his panting and heavy boots echoing in the distance. I am preparing to run when I realize there’s nowhere for me to go.

A long wooden fence stands between me and the next street. I can hear the passing cars on the other side. The man’s footsteps get louder as he approaches. I don't want to go back, I can't go back. The only thing left for me to do is fight. I may be scared and alone, but I have no other option but to win. I search for anything around me I can use. I find a wooden plank on the ground and prepare myself. The man moves closer to where I am. His heavy panting feeling up the silence. The first thing I can clearly see is his boots. Black heavy boots, followed by black trousers and a black jacket. His hands empty as the man moves closer towards me.

As he draws closer, a light from a passing car reveals the rest of him. A badge dangles from his neck. He seems to have kind eyes that tell me not to worry. He’s been speaking all this time, but I hadn’t been listening until he utters the words “You’re safe”.

He tells me not to worry. He takes off his police badge to show me, reassuring me he won’t hurt me. I’m fully able to grasp the whole situation when I hear the radio going off on his left hip. A woman’s voice asking if he had been able to locate me. The man responds to the woman and then turns his attention back on me.

Reaching his hand out to me, he again utters the words “You’re safe”.

I’m... safe?

Timidly I reach my hand out to him as well. He gently takes it and pulls me to towards him. He notices the almost dried blood on my hands and lets go. Only to gently hug me while he ensures I was really safe. He lets go when he realizes I've tensed up. He tries to reassure me I am not in any trouble when he sees me pull away. He lets me know his name and rank, while leading me in the direction we came. 

The drive to the police station makes everything that has happened till this moment feel like one long hellish dream. One I have just woken up from. I’m unable to control the tears that start flooding my eyes. For the first time in five years, these ones are from happiness. I was free. Free from Him. Free from my capture.

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