I realized I was running. Running hard. My heart felt like it was about to blow. I wanted to stop but I couldn’t. I had to get farther, farther away from him, far enough so I could just scream and no one would hear me. I stopped when I saw a road up ahead. It was quiet. No birds, no cars, just the sound of my heavy breathing. I sat down. I buried my face into my hands and cried. I just witnessed my mothers death, my worst fear. I lost my dad over three years ago, over a massive heart attack. The only thing left was my mom. I was home schooled ever since I was six, and we live in the middle of nowhere, so I have no friends, no teachers, and now no family. Footsteps echoed behind me and I started running again.

Branches whipped around me, drawing lines of blood across my bare arms, and face. Footsteps were rumbling behind me, and I put in a burst of speed, praying to get away from him.

I was on the ground before I realized I had fallen. His footsteps were right on top of me. A bloody chainsaw was the last thing I saw before searing pain ripped into me. I let out a blood curling scream, wishing the pain would stop. And suddenly, it did.