Watching, staring as the figure adjacent to me gently smiles, blinks once, and drops her head to the ground. Letting her dusty, and filthy blond hair dwindle down her bloodless face. Tears form on the corner of my eye, as I ease my hands on to my friend watching her soul sink down into the depths of the earth. With me knowing that her crime has done no justice, to herself and her loved ones.

My tear, which still sat on my face, grew large enough to trickle down my cheek and land on her forehead. It mixed in with the blood and dirt that turned into a char like color. After a solid minute of me sobbing at my deceased friend, I finally looked up and saw a figure. Because my vision had not yet adjusted to the murky gas that consumed Mother Nature’s natural oxygen, I could not tell who or even what, was striding towards me. To regain my vision I tried rubbing my eyes with my hands, but it was no use, it only made matters worse.

With conviction, I put my hands into my pockets to attempt to find some sort of cloth that would help. Right pocket, nothing, left pocket, a crumb, back left pocket, void. Last but not least the back right pocket, a slither of tissue. It may have been used a bit, but in times of crisis you need to take risks, risks that may or may not turn out in your favor. Wiping once, twice, and finally third times a charm, I regained my vision and saw a man in his late 40’s, starting to approach me in a faster pace than before. So, I started to observe him and his features- filthy jeans, ragged hair, torn shirt, and the thing that stood out the most was his cold, blood filled hands. In one hand grasped a burnt and wilted rose, and in the other a gun, fully loaded ready to hit its target. My head spun in circles while I stood there contemplating his next move.

My one true instinct was to run to safety, but where really was safety when you were in front of a man with a gun? Was this it? Do I have to give up and turn myself in to the assassin? No, that was not an option; he would never take me alive. I knew that he was going to make a move sooner or later but I couldn’t take that chance. So, I began to sprint fiercely towards the old, broken down bridge. As expected, I heard the sound of footsteps start at a slow, rhythmic pace than all of a sudden jump into hyper speed. I didn’t want to turn back now because that would mean I had to slow down, and when a man with a gun is running towards you, you want to take every second you have as an advantage.

Since I have lived in this town practically all my life, I knew exactly where all the little dents are, and where every pebble lay. When I approached the corner I began to get extremely parched, but I knew that this was no time to stop and get a drink, my life was on the line. At this moment I noticed that the sound of the man’s footsteps has decreased drastically. Therefore, I took this to my advantage and reversed my head so I would be facing the assassin, like I’d hoped it revealed the distance between us. I was indeed farther than I expected, although I knew it was not enough. Once again, I started to sprint towards the bridge, which was only one more block away.

Than I started questioning myself, what if I don’t escape? What if it’s too late? Next thing I knew, my head was a tornado of questions, never reaching a decision.  I knew I needed to stop because if I didn’t I wouldn’t focus.  Finally, I turned the last corner and reached my destination. A sigh of relief came over me and I almost forgot what was wrong, everything looked so mesmerizing. The moon glistening down on the cascading stream, the flowers all moving in one swift motion, and the crickets chirping to one another.  I shook out of this state of reverie and started to walk to the mid-point of the bridge.

Likewise, I decided to look over the edge to see what my other options are in case of an emergency. I began to think of ideas when I heard the assassin’s feet inch closer and closer to me by the second. To my surprise he wasn’t alone. In fact, five other of his assassin friends blocked one side of the bridge and a truck with more assassins blocking my other exit.

“Tell us the secret, Rose”. one of the men said in a hoarse voice.

“Never” I said with a strong and powerful notion.

Inevitably, they thought that there was only one way out, to hand myself in to them. No, they thought wrong, there was one more exit, I knew was unlikely to survive, and I would be taking a risk. Next thing I knew I was running to the edge of the bridge. I looked down closed my eyes, took a deep breath and thought my last thoughts. I took my final step and fell. Falling felt free, free from any danger that ever was and ever will be.

Finally, I hit the water but it neither was cold nor hot. Confusion filled my thoughts, and I assumed I was deceased, just like my friend. Than all of a sudden I heard my mom calling out to me. I looked around but nobody was there, only me drifting in nothingness. I decided to close my eyes and reopen them, and to my surprise I was home, laying in my bed, with my mom beside me saying it was merely just a dream.