The Run

I plateau around 100 mph, the vibrations coming from the car seemed to numb themselves on my excited body. The high howl of the wind drowned out my already blown speakers, but I had my own music playing in my head. It was a get-away song with its crescendo accented by the scream of sirens behind me. I don't even know how I managed to get so far away from the city I thought was important …

…although I didn't know what to expect when I got there, I hoped for the best. Hope was all I had to cling to at this point. Running to get across the border seemed to only happened in movies. I also didn't have the slightest idea of what I would do when I got across. Maybe I could become a freelance criminal. It seemed thats where I'd be heading on this demented trek of mine.