Michael Radatus

Kin

Her strength was gone, her abdomen ached. It took everything she had to escape, but she knew if she could just pull herself over to the shattered street she could breathe, if only for a moment. With one last effort, she hoisted herself over the ridge, the weight of her exhaustion throwing her on her back. She laid there slumped on the cold wet ridge, the sun beginning to retreat behind the jagged horizon. The rain pitter-pattered across her body, rinsing the once stark white sneakers her mom gifted for her birthday, now soiled and unrecognizable. Her breath was heavy, now beginning to slow, not from relief but from necessity. It was finally quiet on the road except for the rain hitting the bent street lamp above her in rapid succession. Thunder continued to roar above, but the frustrated bellows of her pursuers had stopped. She could no longer hear them. As she realized this, she took one moment for herself, closed her eyes and breathed deeply. As she caught her breath, old memories began firing in her mind, like the fireworks from the 4th of July. She laughed softly embracing this simple moment. With her eyes still closed, she analyzed her situation. "I got it, I got it…" She continued breathing heavily as she patted her bag feeling for the large rectangular outline. "Okay. Okay." Celebrating with a big exhale. She lied there for another minute. She opened her eyes, sat up, and almost mechanically moved her arms and legs checking to make sure everything was still working properly. "I don't think anything is broken. It's cold-- why am I sitting in this muddy water?" She asked herself. Suddenly alert, her eyes widened "They're still looking for me. I can't stay here; I have to move." She rolled over sitting on her hands and knees, and as her survival instinct kicked in she pushed out several heavy puffs of air through her nose like a determined bull going for the red cloth.