Prompt: no longer burdened by what's left behind.
He ran frantically, anxiety causing his chest to pound. Breathe in, breathe out. You need to breathe to run. One step in front of the other. That's it. Don't fall, don't look behind you.
He should not have done it. He was stupid, he was naïve, and now he was dead. What had he been thinking? He had been thieving on impulse too much lately. So what that it was dark? They might not have seen his face, but they were still going to kill him. He, George Cooper, had taken something from the Rogue, the King of Thieves.
And now he would pay for it.
He could hear their screams, their calls of "Get the sarden scummer!" and "Ye disgraceful lump!". He could feel the pounds of their feet as they followed him. They were getting closer, and his life was ending sooner.
He said his prayers, his I'm-sorry-I-disobeyed-you-Mother. But George did not truly have any regrets; perhaps he wished that he had practiced running more often, but he had no qualms of turning to thieving. It was his heart, his mind, his destiny, and would be his death.
George tripped and went flying, and heard the ensuing jeers. He scrambled to his feet instantaneously, his vision sharpened from the adrenaline. He was running across a bridge now, it creaking under his weight. He thought he heard a crack, but then he was over it, and running into the alleyways.
A crash pierced the air and shook the ground. George heard screams, cries for help, but he kept running. He could not stop now.
The absence of feet behind him caused him to stop and look behind. There was no one. He was alone.
It was stupid, he knew, but George's curiosity caused him to turn back in order to look for his missing pursuers. He traced his steps back to the bridge, or what had been. There was nothing there now, except for floating debris and wet men climbing out. He turned to run, but instantaneously stopped.
No one had recognized him before. They didn't know who he was- if he stayed still, no one would ever suspect him.
He grinned, knowing that he should not let his ego get to his head, but still allowing himself this one pleasure. He was only eleven, after all, and had still managed to escape the most formidable force in all of Corus.
It's only a matter of time, he thought smugly, before I rule them all.