By Eleanor Wilson, TIWP Student

“There’s something behind you.” That was the last thing I heard my father say. That day still haunts me. The feeling of being shoved under water. It whispering in low tones to let it in. And in that moment, I realized, the end had begun. Running. The loud sound of my shoes hitting pebbles, the aching burn in my legs, the feeling of adrenaline coursing through my veins, panic spiking my heart rate. It’s still behind me. I took a sharp left into a back alley, hitting my shoulder on a wall as a result of my momentum. I felt my legs starting to give out. My throat felt dry, I couldn’t tell if it was because of the fear or because of the large amount of air I had been gulping down. I felt my legs start to slow. No No NO NO! I collapsed on the ground, tearing my hands on the rough terrain, my body no longer able to keep up with my panic. I rolled over so I was facing up, doing my best to look around for the thing that was chasing me. And It was gone. I studied every shadow and crevice, every possible hiding spot. It was nowhere to be found. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Lying down on the ground, attempting to calm down my raging heart beat. My body hurt. Whether it was from the burning sensation in my legs or the raw flesh exposed on my palms, it stung. I slowly sat up, careful not to overwork myself. But my moment of self care was cut short by the feeling of water hitting my nose. I look up. There it is.