Running through the woods
 

My feel my heart pound in my chest, and I hear the snap of the twigs under my feet, my raspy panting. I don't know how far I've run, and I don't even know where I am anymore. I have never ran this far into the woods. It was getting thicker, rockier, bushier. I feel a sharp scrape on my bare leg where it caught the ends of a thorn bush. At almost the same moment I feel a sting in my ankle where my sneaker lands on a rock the wrong way. My hair bounces in a pony tail as I run, feeling it faintly slapping at my neck, a little moist from the sweat.

All the while I can still hear the whistling, the shouting, and the thumps of the boots behind me. My side starts to ache from running so hard. My arm wraps around the smallest part of my torso, just under my ribs, holding my side where it aches with every movement or breath. My lungs are burning. I am slowing down, I can't keep it up, I can't do it. I stumble and my arms flail to keep me from falling to the dirt. I come to a stop, I can't go on. The boots behind me get super close, and the voices. My black tank top, tight on me, outlining the small hump where my bra sits underneath, heaves with my chest as I pant desperately for air, exposing the tips of my hip bones not quite reaching my purple mesh shorts. My legs bare, smoothly shaven but shows the scrapes and patches of dirt from the scuffle. My body shakes and stumbles backward as hands grab at my arms, pulling them back suddenly and roughly. "Ah!" I shout out, and just as two other men come into view, a hood or bag falls over my head, I can't see anymore.


At this point, its up to you how it goes down. You can be all part of some gang that wants to kidnap me and get revenge, or just use me as your own toy. Just because you're evil like that. Or you could be the special police, hauling me in for a rough interrogation and imprisonment. I could either deserve it, or not. Or you could be my own gang, friends, or family. And I've run off, trying to escape the treatment, the situation. But you don't take very kindly to that, and now I'm really going to take it. Or would you like to have me delivered to you by this group of guys, whomever you are. Or what would you like?

I do not want to enjoy it. I want to be forced to take this. Rape, beatings, choking, whatever else you want. That sort of thing. I like the intensity, I like the rawness, the hopelessness, the power struggle, the mind game, the objectivity.

"We got her now." I shout to my buddy. "This bitch has ran a long way; now she is all ours with no one to hear her." I say as I grab you by your bare arm.