My Hero's Escape-Personal Narrative

999 Words4 Pages
Escape I do as I am told and run. I run into the forest surrounding our little cabin, low hanging branches slapping at my face and slicing my skin. The howls of the monsters follow me, my every nightmare come to life. My heart pounds. Tears are slipping from my eyes. They’re dead. They’re all dead. It’s all I can think about as I run. Before the monsters had been released into the world, my family had been big and happy. I had a mother and a father, two older sisters and one younger, a single brother. I even had a dog, a small Jack Russell Terrier named Gus. He’d been such a sweet boy. So protective and brave. But then the monsters came. My mother and youngest sister died first, sucombing to a disease the monsters brought with…show more content…
Now Em is dead, Derek is gone, and I am alone. Behind me, another howl breaks me from my thoughts. The tears come faster and my legs pump. I crash through a bush, its thorns catching at my skin and pajamas. It hurts, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. Em told me to run, and that’s what I’m going to do. I run and I run and I run. I run until my bare feet throb and my arms are littered with scratches. I run until my side hurts. I run until I think of stopping, then I think of those monsters and Em’s last words and I force myself onward. And then I run until I…show more content…
“Hello, Leighton. I’m Elle.” It’s polite to introduce yourself. My mom always said that. Leighton crouches low, the fur on the back of her neck standing up. Before she launches herself at me, though, there is a loud bang something hits Leighton in the head, blood spraying along the side of a tree. She has enough time to emit a low whimper before collasping to the ground, red eyes dulling. I stare at the corpse, shaking. “Hey? Hey sweetie? You alright?” A hand touches my shoulder and I jump, letting out a quiet yelp. The woman draws back her hand, pink lips turning downwards. I stare at her. She’s dressed entirely in black, a beanie pulled over her hair, and dark goggles cover her eyes. A gun is in her left hand, pointed toward the ground. Another person, a man, is behind her. His weapon is pointed at Leighton, as if he expects her to come back to life any second now. “Hon?” The woman asks. “You okay?” I nod shakily. “I… yes. I-I’m okay.” The man bounces on his feet, anxious. “C’mon Reece, we’ve gotta get goin’. Where there’s one there’s bound to be more.” “Hold your pants, Fisher,” Reece places her free hand against my shoulder. “Can you walk, kiddo? ‘Cause we really need to be gettin’ outta here,
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