No One

I am running. I have always been running. But why am I running?

Am I trying to go somewhere? Am I trying to escape something? Am I competing against others?

I repeat the motions without hesitation. I have been running for all of my life - all of my measly sixteen years of life. (Has it been sixteen already?)

What would happen if I stopped? No, I don't want to know. I don't have to know. I can run. I can still run. I don't have to stop. There is no need to stop.

But what is there? What have I left behind? Is there someone beside me? No, there is no one. I don't hear another pair of feet pounding the ground. I don't smell the sweat of labour besides my own. I don't feel the heat of another body next to me. My senses tell me there is no one.

And yet, I have knowledge. There is someone. There are people running, just like me. Do they know why they're running? Will they know why I am running? Should I stop? Is there a reason to stop?

Hello, are you there? You're running, too, aren't you? Why can't I see you? Why can't I hear you or smell you or feel you? Can you see me? Can you hear me? Hello? Are you there? Can you help me? Is anyone there?

What do I sound like? Am I too quiet? Is that why no one can hear me? But I don't know how to be louder...

Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? HELLO? Hello? Hello? HELLO? Hello? HELLO? HELLO?

 Is anyone there?