The chase-short story

I saw her running, hastily, through the meadows. The skin on her knees unthreading against the branches as her feet bounced over the dry leaves. The monster chased her slowly. The chase was half the fun and there was not a single soul in the vastness of its path. One misstep and the hunt would be over. Her chest, like a loud engine tapping, was threatening to halt her entire body.
She would’n stop, even if she heard the distant growl, the footsteps or the fear.
Fear was a gentle warmth over her neck and shoulders, cradling her like an infant.

She quickly recalled the little knife in her pocket, it was now tickling her legs while she dashed through the narrow paths. As her mouth became dry, she thought :“At the end of the road, a trap awaits for me, a little mouse running to its demise.” A sharp turn around the trees and a dangerous hiding spot caught her peripheral view. There she hid, fighting the violent gasping for air and excitedly becoming the predator for once. “I am the one chasing him, unexpectedly, in all of my glory.”
The knife was small but very sharp, she tested it on herself and smiled as the pretty little drops of blood scattered down her arms. “Only a few moments now” she thought. A slow and dragging foot approached. As the monster’s shoulder neared the branches, she slit the little knife in the monster’s gut. A baby’s whimper was heard for miles; she quickly jumped on her feet and stabbed him now in the neck, numerous times, crying softly as she defeated him.

And I saw her collapse over the leaves, triumphant and glowing against the sunrise. And I wrote her a poem and I gently recited “There is a monster that waits for us all, never run! never fear! Wait quietly in a corner, and in your darkness tirelessly fight, all of the monsters within and without.”

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