I was running. I was out of breath. My muscles cried like the soft leaves of weeping willows, to stop and sit down; my heart was burning as if someone had pored liquid fire down it. Neither my lungs nor my heart could take it anymore, I started to cough blood; the thick red stuff trickled down my rosy cheeks onto my green top. I was startled by the amount of the blood that was coming out of me, so I knew from that moment something was wrong. I couldn't bear it, I had to stop. I dived into a nearby bush, which, till then, I did not realise was a nasty thorn bush. Its cruel spikes digging into my skin with all its might like a pit viper oozing the energy out of its prey. I hid there till I knew they were gone.