Young Writers Society

Alison Arguanova wrote:He was running through the underbrush. The wind was strong and unrelenting, [s]seemingly[/s] taking direction from the overbearing rain. Everything was wet, which made it virtually impossible for him not to slip and fall into the mud, which would mean the end of everything. He knew that if he slipped up for one second, they would find him. And capture was simply not an option.

Every step he took had to be calculated in advance, and since he was running faster than he ever had in his life, he had to make sure he was calculating quickly and accurately. It was the fact that he knew the terrain so well that saved him.

A loud bang erupted behind him. He couldn't even think about it the second after it happened. If he did, he was sure to slow down slightly, and he knew that he couldn't. But in the second the bang occurred, he could tell right away a gun had been fired. But why? The shot was no where near him. So the questions he needed to ask himself, were: who was shooting, and what were they shooting at? Of course, he couldn't think about it, so he ran on, trying to dismiss it as a faulty fire.

"Almost there," he thought despite himself. The forest was only so big, and he knew every section of it, including the exit. Of course, there was the issue of what to do once at the exit, like, how to physically leave, but he'd worry about that then. Right now, he had to get there alive. Survival was all that mattered. "Live or die," he risked thinking, "I'm getting out."

The trees were getting farther apart and fewer. The end [s]of it[/s] was coming. All that was left standing between him and freedom was [s]a bit more of forest [/s]one last stretchabout [s]one[/s] a mile or so long, and he knew from experience that he could make it in under five minutes.

"Right foot on the branch, left foot [s]connect [/s]to that dry piece of bark," he thought to himself. He knew to keep off the mud, which was everywhere, so he had to find random pieces of tree to grasp with his sneakers so as not to slip.

There was a massive fallen trunk of a tree just ahead. He had to go straight. It would be impossible to turn and not slip. But how was he to get past the trunk without risking a misstep? Everything depending on this escape, not to mention everyone. This had to happen. Failure was not an option.you repeated the 'not an option' saying

He was getting closer and closer to the tree with every decisive step. He seemed to forget everything but getting past the tree trunk, and relied on memory to get him up to that point. When it was time for him to lung over it, he took a deep breath, and pushed off of a tree stub behind him to get maximum height.

Everything seemed to get shorter as he flew threw the air, but then everything retrieved its respective height once he made it back to the ground. It was amazing. Everything inside him seemed to tell him that he would never made it over the trunk without slipping, but he landed perfectly and without incident. What was more, he was now facing the end of the forest. There were no more trees in front of him. Instead, he was greeted with concrete floors and a massive electrical fence that no one was ever supposed to reach. At least no one like him was supposed to see it, or ever think of climbing it. How could he, when one touch would mean the end of his precious life.

Breathing deeply, he prepared himself to do what he knew he had to. Squinting his eyes, he began figuring out the best way to...

"John!" a masculine voice called from behind him.

He knew that voice. And John also knew that the man would never allow him to leave. [s]Too bad[/s] John had other plans...

Of course, there was the issue of what to do once at the exit, like, how to physically leave, but he'd worry about that then.

so he had to find random pieces of tree to grasp with his sneakers so as not to slip.

He was running through the underbrush. The wind was strong and unrelenting, seemingly taking direction from the overbearing rain. Everything was wet, which made it virtually impossible for him not to slip and fall into the mud, which would mean the end of everything. He knew that if he slipped up for one second, they would find him. Capture was simply not an option.

Every step he took had to be calculated in advance, and since he was running faster than he ever had in his life, he had to make sure he was calculating quickly and accurately. It was the fact that he knew the terrain so well that saved him.

A loud bang erupted behind him. He couldn't even think about it the second after it happened. If he did, he was sure to slow down slightly, and he knew that he couldn't. But in the second the bang occurred, he could tell right away a gun had been fired. But why? The shot was no where [should be nowhere] near him. So the questions he needed to ask himself, were: who was shooting, and what were they shooting at? Of course, he couldn't think about it, so he ran on, trying to dismiss it as a faulty fire.

"Almost there," he thought despite himself. The forest was only so big, and he knew every section of it, including the exit. Of course, there was the issue of what to do once at the exit, like, how to physically leave, but he'd worry about that then. Right now, he had to get there alive. Survival was all that mattered. "Live or die," he risked thinking, "I'm getting out."

The trees were getting farther apart and fewer. The end of it was coming. All that was left standing between him and freedom was a bit more of forest about one mile or so long, and he knew from experience that he could make it in under five minutes.

"Right foot on the branch, left foot connect to that dry piece of bark," he thought to himself. He knew to keep off the mud, which was everywhere, so he had to find random pieces of tree to grasp with his sneakers so as not to slip.

He was getting closer and closer to the tree with every decisive step. He seemed to forget everything but getting past the tree trunk, and relied on memory to get him up to that point. When it was time for him to lung [I think you mean lunge] over it, he took a deep breath, and pushed off of a tree stub behind him to get maximum height.

Everything seemed to get shorter as he flew threw the air, but then everything retrieved its respective height once he made it back to the ground. It was amazing. Everything inside him seemed to tell him that he would never made it over the trunk without slipping, but he landed perfectly and without incident. What was more, he was now facing the end of the forest. There were no more trees in front of him. Instead, he was greeted with concrete floors and a massive electrical fence that no one was ever supposed to reach. At least no one like him was supposed to see it, or ever think of climbing it. How could he, when one touch would mean the end of his precious life.

Breathing deeply, he prepared himself to do what he knew he had to. Squinting his eyes, he began figuring out the best way to...

"John!" a masculine voice called from behind him.

He knew that voice. And John also knew that the man would never allow him to leave. Too bad John had other plans...