My senses are heightened. I feel their presence nearby, watching. They are getting bolder, ready to pounce. You may think me paranoid, but it's not the first time their kind have come for me.
I'm weak, tired and scared.
I haven't slept for days and it's been a week since I have been able to keep down what little food I eat.
Maybe I should give up; let them take me. I might be the only one left anyway, so where is my future? Will it always be this way? Hunted and alone.
I turn a corner, stop and look back down the street I left. Two shadowy figures duck into a shop doorway.
A wry smile passes my lips, are my stalkers shy? Afraid? Why do they hide in the shadows? Why not just get this over with?
I consider confronting them while I seem to have the upper hand. Take this fight to them and be the aggressor. But the fear comes back like a knife filleting my spine. I run.
I feel my feet slap the pavement, jarring my knees and sending bolts of pain all the way to my jaw.
The street is deathly quiet. Ahead, nothing moves. Behind, I hear the footfall of those no longer worried about secrecy.
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