Time

5:55am

I toss my head back, savoring the cool air against my sweaty skin. The sky blossoms into a beautiful array of hues over my head. Birds sing as they stir in their nests, getting ready to take to the air. My legs tremble beneath me. I tap the screen on my watch to stop the timer. Seven minutes, ten seconds. So close. I wanted to break seven minutes so badly–I had since high school. I stumble forward, reaching for my bike and unhooking my water bottle from the metal bar. I take several deep gulps of cold water as I watch the surface of the river rush by, the falls thundering over the dam a few hundred yards away. The flowing water catches the earliest morning light, erupting in a treasure trove of glitter and sparkles.

I force myself to walk around for a few minutes before settling in the grass to stretch and wait for strength to return to my limbs. I hear the traffic of people passing by along the bridge to my left and the bike trail in front of me, but I pay the individual people no mind.

Until I hear footsteps behind me.

“Hey, you’re a pretty young thing. What are you doing out here all alone?”

I decided to try the strategy of ignoring him first. It doesn’t work.

“Hey! I’m talking to you! You should pay attention when a man speaks to you. I’m giving you a compliment–be grateful!”

I force myself to my feet, hoping I look steadier and stronger than how I feel right now. He’s between me and my bike. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that he’s only a bit taller than me, but heavier-set, and he seems winded. Maybe I can outrun him on a rush of adrenaline. I pick up my feet and start towards the bike path passing under the bridge.

“Hey! Where are you going!”

If I can’t circle around and beat him back to my bike I’ll duck into the fire station just across the road.

“Come back here!” I hear him start to run behind me, picking up his feet and slamming them into the ground in a relatively unsteady rhythm. My body settles back into its own rhythm easier than I expected. His heavy panting fades behind me as I pick up my pace. Steady does it. My old coach’s voice rings in my head. Control your breathing. Lose control, lose the race.

I come out from under the bridge and see something dark swinging towards me. I duck and jump to the side, slipping on the damp asphalt where the spray of the waterfall always hits.

“She’s not worn down enough!” Another man’s voice yells. My heart stops in my chest.

NO. I will not go. I will not go quietly, without a fuss. I will go down fighting. They will have to kill me before they have me at all.

Two men block my paths forward, along the bike trail or up to the firehouse. The first man blocks my path to my bike.

The waterfall thunders behind me. I decide to take my chances.

“You can’t be serious–” one of the men starts, before his voice is drowned out by the roar of adrenaline in my veins, which in turn gets drowned out by the roar of the water closing in over me.