Pain rips through my feet as they pound the earth, carrying me away from my pursuers as quickly as I can move. Every stuttered inhalation brings fire to my lungs; the stitch in my side is a painful reminder that I am absolutely winded. I nearly lose my footing as my loincloth snags a branch. Water springs to my eyes at the thought of what those people would do to me, if they caught me.
My heart is pounding.
I'm running for my life, and all because I dared to speak of a dream. The beautiful spirit, descending to me in a dream, showing me the eventual destruction of the beautiful land my tribe inhabited. Strange, pale men with roaring implements that could be ridden or swung clear our land. Our medicinal plants disappear. The wildlife dies off. Our tribe will die off, too.
I'm running for my life.
"He is a heretic!" I had felt my jaw slacken when the Elders had passed judgment on me. I am no heretic. "One cannot see the future without demonic intervention. The gods won't allow it!" In my heart, I knew my sentence. Even now, I know it is unjust.
I must die.
I'm running for my life, and my heart is pounding.
I had felt, in that instant, as though the earth had swallowed me whole. It was as if the fire in me that had been whipped into a raging inferno by the cool summer winds had been quenched with the waters of the monsoons. My heart had been torn from my chest.
I must die.
"The only way to cleanse ourselves of your abomination is sacrifice, Ma-ti. The gods demand it!" I started running, and I haven't stopped. I feel as though hours have passed. The stitch in my side has long since faded. My teeth are cold, as though my breath is not able to keep them warm. My legs ache more than any other pain I have ever known.
I'm running for my life.
The mere thought gives me a surge of adrenaline; I'm draining myself. This is my what, second, third surge? I know the boost can only last so long, but the knowledge of what they will do to me if they capture me keeps me running. I can almost feel the blade pressing to my throat, or even the fire consuming me as I'm lit at the stake. It's always one or the other, with ritual sacrifice. For me, surely it would be both.
I'm running for my life.
I trip over a root rising from the earth and topple headlong into the ground. My motivation is gone from the moment I crash down. My legs are on fire, the wind is gone from my lungs, and water springs from my eyes. They will destroy me. They will rip out my very heart.
As the hands encircle my body, I know I'm losing my life.
My own scream awakened me. Wheeler came rushing into the room with a, "What's wrong, Little Buddy?" Honestly, how do I explain that I was a human sacrifice in my past life?
How do I explain that I was running for my life?