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The Hunt
Every ounce of your strength is focused on one thing: Escape. Adrenaline pulsing through your being, pounding at your fingertips, your mind narrows down to that one pinpoint of thought, the need to run. Every muscle strains to this desperate race, for you know pursuit is close behind. Your legs burn with exertion, your chest tightens with each fiery breath, as you struggle to keep your slim lead in the never-ending chase. Your feet are an aching blur, your hands throb as they grab objects to propel you forward, as you weave through them. Your hands tighten their hold, pushing yourself forward with a mighty shove—
And into the waking world. A fringing fear still clings to your mind every morning, as your heart slows its fevered beat. But all too soon reality crashes down. You remember who you really are, the nobody, who no one even takes the effort to notice, not even to bully. Not smart enough to be looked down upon, snubbed, mocked; not weak enough to be picked on, not bad enough to be pitied—
Not good enough to love.
Drudgery defines your life. You know you are worth nothing, especially not a pursuit.
So you dream of a hunt.
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