the shed...

NOT FINISHED- DONT REVIEW

I see the flashing lights. I hear the sirens. I consider turning around and pretending I hadnt seen anything.

Then I see the shadows. I hear the voices. Theyre coming, running, this way. I do turn, and see the abandoned shed near the trailer. I sprint to it, making much too much noise for my liking, and squeeze through the bushes to the door. Ducking to avoid hitting my head on the fallen beams above, I crouch in the far corner, behind a crate of long forgotten metal hardware. I reach up to tighten my ponytail, and stop with hands hovering above my head, to listen for crunching leaves outside. Far away voices alert me to the danger not yet passed.

Theyre coming. Toward the shed. Toward me. I feel my own heart beat ing my chest. My ankles hurt my crouching inside this crowded and dirty shed. The door is open, impossibleto shut, the hinges are rusted so bad it'd be like trying to bust concrete. I can feel the wind blow the dust up in the air around me and I sneeze. The voices outside stop and the once-moving shadow is now stilled. I put my hand on the wall in front of me to steady my shaking. White, peeling paint rub the palm of my hand. The dirt under my nails is just now starting to bother me. What a thing to be worrying about at a time like this, I think. With dangerous people outside, looking for me, probably smart enough to know Im here, all I can concncentrate on is when Ill be able to scrub my hands.