Amy ran.
Even as the thicket scraped her bare legs, or when a branch smacked into her stomach. As things would pull and tug on her hair, she still ran. Why?
Because if your life depended on it, wouldn't you run too?
Amy ran.
Even as her broken arm, flew in the wind she created. Or when her shoeless feet got stabbed and pinched by the undergrowth. She still ran. Running for her life.
Fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins. She was scared to put it simply. No one seems afraid of death until they are actually sitting on its doorstep ringing the bell profoundly. Which is what she is doing right now. She could've stayed, and let herself be whisked away by that monster.
Who was her master.
Amy ran.
Because she couldn't let him do that to her. Her master did it to everyone because he could. No one could stop him. Not even lay a single gentle finger on his shoulder – whispering for him to stop. She would know that from experience.
