Concrete Writing

I couldn’t see where I was going, or who he was. All I knew, was to keep running. I had rocks in my feet, and my pants were ripping at the seams. I heard his steps draw nearer, at a rapid pace, but he wasn’t close enough to grab me- at least not yet. The last thing I Remeber was walking home down an unfamiliar alley, there I saw a man in all black, except for white shoes. I knew something wasn’t right, so I backed away slowly, which grew into a run.

I felt something slash my right cheek, it was cold and small. Knife? I whispered to myself without looking back. He then started to yell something, it was faint but it sounded like he was yelling “you can run, but not for long” repeatedly like a broken record. I cringed a little more each time he yelled it. Then snap, my legs gave out and I stumbled to the ground. Face sweaty. Hands filthy. He approached me with heavy breathes, big, bad, bulky are 3 words to fit him just right. He had a little smirk on his face. Which gave me a nauseated feeling in my stomach.,I couldn’t get up. Not a chance.