www.whyville.net Oct 30, 2011 Weekly Issue

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My feet will hit the cold, hard floor. Ice will shoot through my blood, and every breath I suck into my lungs shall burn like fire. My legs will quiver and my heart will race. I'll lose everything, I'll escape.

I will run.

Escape this place, escape this life. Escape this bleak existence I've created for myself. Escape this lie, this game. I'll escape everything of my own and I shall never return. I'll go, I'll go and never come back.

Tell me goodbye, whisper these words in my ear. Sooth my soul and my thoughts and whisper to me how you'll miss me so. Offer to come, I'll decline. I'll take nothing with me, I'll run barefoot and burst right through that door and into the light.

I'll go so fast, I'll be gone before you blink.

I'll sprint up mountains and I'll race with the wolves. My parents will mourn, my friends will reminisce, and you, you will follow. I know you will, you promised you'd never leave me.

Don't let me see you, don't let me catch you. Or I'll take you right back to where we started. And this time I'll escape this life through the window of darkness. I'll become one with night and run through the stars. You'll never catch me.

I want you to follow me. I want you to try to restrain me, to show you care. I want you to never leave me.

But I need to go, and I cannot uproot you from everything you've built for you. You've worked so hard, I'd never be so selfish as to steal you.

This journey was meant for me and me only.

So I'll run.

Here I go.

This is it.

Follow me.


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