The Stalking
Bones dense with fear
they cracked and crumbled under pressure.
Panic streaked her face
in shades of shadows only known to those she shared her terror to.
Her skin prickled at the pore
every time that she wore
the suit of “pretend”.
Walking down halls
with key card entries
she should feel safe,
but instead, she peered out from underneath
her head which fell heavy like a brick to the floor;
eyes gazed down but always on watch.
Where is he?
Breath caught, captured tightly in her chest
haphazardly thrown into a cage under lock and key,
it pressed up against her.
So afraid to let it escape that
she continually forgot it was action needed to survive —
Breathing.
Slow. Deep. In. Out.
Pace it to the beat of a methodical metronome.
In. Out. In —
A creak, a crackle, a crash.
— What was that?
A cascade of chemicals surged throughout her frame.
Consumed in panic and terror;
hysteria played on repeat.
There was only one demand screaming inside of her —
RUN.
