Happy Friday everyone. Let’s jump into the last prompt of the week and see what our brains kick out shall we? Timers set for fifteen minutes and off we go.
Not at all where I thought this would go, but you know, I kind of had fun with it.
Friday, October 16th: His mind blanked.
His mind blanked. He watched the angry man with the knife and just froze. His mind blank, his body a statue. He stood there until Sheila slammed her hand into his shoulder.
“Run you idiot,” she yelled. He blinked as though waking. She was already passed him, putting her own advice in motion. He followed, more out of imitation than understanding. His mind was still trying to grasp the situation.
He had never been around violence before. Not real violence, anyway. He played a lot of video games with violence of all sorts. He especially loved the war games that came with high body counts. He always told himself he would be good in a real battle.
He let his eyes focus on Sheila’s back and raced to catch up with her, his thoughts were finally thawing but what entered his mind wasn’t helpful.
‘Not like the game, not like the game at all.’
They were the only words that made it into his mind, his eyes still fixed on Sheila. His longer legs were only serving to keep her in sight.
‘Track,’ he thought.
It was almost a relief to have something new floating through his mind. Shiels ran track in high school. She even ended up with a scholarship to university because of it. ‘Or was that an academic scholarship?’ He didn’t know. Couldn’t recall and it bothered him that he couldn’t recall.
‘She is smart and can run fast,’ that seemed to be reason enough to try to keep up with her. To keep her in sight. He heard the screams behind him. Those who were closer to the large angry man with the large bloody knife. Those who hadn’t been smart enough to follow Shiela.
He felt a flush of pride fill him. He was smart. This proved it.
He kept running. His breath was ragged and the distance between him and Sheila grew. He had longer legs but was much heavier and not used to running. Sheila ran every day after work; he played video games after work.
‘No one said there would be a man with a knife,’ he told himself as he struggled to keep up. If someone mentioned that, he would have practiced running.
The ground changed beneath them. The dirt became firmer, packed harder. They weren’t running through the open grass, they were on a path. ‘Path’s lead somewhere,’ he thought.
Sheila was still ahead of him but she was picking up speed now that she had a proper track to run on. She was pulling ahead, her back becoming more distant. The last of the screams from the campsite were cut off.
‘Coming after me now,’ he thought. The thought kept him moving. Now the others were dispatched he was a target. He had to catch up to Sheila. He was struggling now. Breathing was harder. But ahead he saw the destination of the trail through the trees. ‘The parking lot.’
