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Out of breath, With a thought that makes me double over and fall to my knees, the sharp edges of loose gravel digging into them, drawing blood. Finally it is all so clear! It all makes perfect sense! How I got into this mess and how I was so badly deceived. Where am I? I try to make out the blurry scene around me and realise that there are hot salty tears that are threatening to choke me are pouring from my eyes, which is why it is making it near impossible to see. I wipe at them and it takes a few minutes as I compose myself until they start to clear and I can properly make out my surroundings. I’m standing in the middle of a tired looking, broken road, covered with weeds which try to catch onto my ancient running shoes that are starting to fall apart and the ends of my toes becoming visible. Staring back, past the dark, gloomy fog to the city where I have run from, filled like a diary of my memories and deepest secrets. I am leaving it all behind and I know for a fact that I will never set foot on those familiar streets again.

Surrounded by where a forest used to stand which since then has been burnt to the ground, and now, only the strongest of the many trees survived, like me I guess, the only one I know of to escape. On the bright side, If there ever could be one, it is such a relief to smell the crisp fresh air, it’s been too long and is nice to be here in the country part of the city. I do appreciate it but I can’t enjoy it, I’m not here under any circumstance that would, in the slightest bit, make it enjoyable. Who would have thought that only two hours earlier I was really believing that I would never be able to leave that city again like the rest of my friends and family’s fate.

Taking one last glance over my shoulder as I start to run again, I see the points of the tops of the tallest skyscrapers fading into the thick blanket of fog until there is only one standing alone, rising above the rest, the one that I know best. My home. or should I say, my ‘old’ home. Our apartment was on the thirty-eighth floor which was about a quarter of the way up, my Father, Mother, brother, Grandmother and I all lived there together, with the cream coloured walls covering all three of the rooms. A squishy living room and cosy, brightly tiled kitchen. It was tight, fitting us all in, but we made it work and it was shelter, it was warmth and ultimately, it was home. It was our safe place out of the sight of the cameras, watching our every move and ready to criticise anything that could potentially end badly. Up there in our apartment however, I didn’t have to be as careful, I was out of sight and, well I thought I was free. At least that is what I thought until the truth came out.

Stop looking back. I know that there is no going back. Not now, not ever.

I sit up, fully awake now and realise what just happened. You see, ever since I was involved in a car accident when I was five years old where I should have died, every single dream I have ever dreamt has become reality. It’s like I can predict what is going to happen, see into the future. It was awesome and I took it for granted but now … I just wish I couldn’t.

The street that was strewn with litter was totally deserted.

The man who walked down the middle of the road was humming to himself.

The man who was humming to himself, walked down the middle of the road.

I’ve spent the last nine years working hard towards this moment and have had an almost sleepless month preparing for this race, the first race in history where a robot has competed at the olympics. My robot. I remember back three years, the memory still vividly planted in the back of my mind It was only a small tournament but it was the step in the direction towards, slowly but surely developing the intelligence of robots. Back then, I could only dream of the Olympics but look at me now standing here. The gun goes off which brings me back to reality, leaving a ringing sound in my ears.

           = relative clauses

Beneath the blanket of soft, grey, foggy miserable sky, you stand. On the bridge, guard dog at your feet, surrounded with other soldiers, nervous and watching. [Inside your head was a thought about how you were hoping there would be no flying pigs which is a common thing, sent from Isis today]. Below you lies an almost still river of secrets waiting to be discovered. [On the bridge a car who was not on the schedule for and all clear, pulls up to the checking point]. Around here checks were considered extremely important. On your watch you wouldn’t want to make any mistakes. Over the barrier of the checkpoint, beyond your limits, you know what they are doing, what they are hiding.

BOLD  =    nouns

           =    verb

           =    adjective

[      ] = relative clauses

You walk through the tall and intimidating gates of the deserted looking school. You see the so familiar classrooms, empty, thinking back to the times when they were full and bustling with the going ons of the everyday school life, remember it’s a Saturday, of course it’s looking deserted. You walk up to the back wall of the PE shed where you and your friends all carved your names into the slightly rotting soft board of wood. You can see scraping marks showing the efforts one of the staff must have made trying to get rid of them. They didn’t have enough time to give you and your friends a detention as it was on your last day there.

 

You feel the blast of freezing wind almost knock you off your feet and you crouch to wait for the helicopter to leave to go pick up another load of excited tourists thrilled with the idea of standing on a sea of frozen sheets of ice wedged together between the sides of a valley. Even though you have done this many times before, it still makes you stop and take in how big and beautiful it is. You make it to the designated waiting area without slipping and sliding too much on the chipped ice and wait for further instructions.

 

Beneath the blanket of grey miserable sky, you stand. On the bridge, guard dog at your feet, surrounded with other soldiers, nervous and watching. Inside your head was a thought about how you were hoping there would be no flying pigs sent from Isis today, this is a common thing. Below you lies an almost still river of secrets. On the bridge a car pulls up to the checking point. Around here checks were considered extremely important. On your watch you wouldn’t want to make any mistakes. Over the barrier of the checkpoint, beyond your limits, you know what they are doing, what they are hiding.