She ran. Even with a stitch developing in her side, she ran.
She wasn’t quite sure why she was running. Yet, she still ran.
She felt the pressure to run. But she didn’t know what it was that compelled her.
So, she ran.
She gazed at the scenery around her to try and get a grip on reality. Scrub brush and sand was all she could see. And a weird sort of sun. It was hot as hell, but the sun never rose.
This brought to her increasing awareness that she was thirsty. Incredibly thirsty. But no water bottle. She never ran without water. That was just silly.
While her mind was preoccupied on her insatiable thirst, her foot caught on a rock. She tumbled, almost in slow motion, to the ground. She knew it was going to hurt.
Laying there, bruised and broken, she prayed for help.
“God won’t help you here,” a gravelly voice whispered in her head. That’s when realization dawned upon her.
She knew she was doomed to repeat this sequence of events, day after day. For the rest of her life. This was hell.