My heart thumped like a drum, as the distinct sound of foot steps against gravel were heard on the driveway. My palms were sweating, and I was shaking uncontrollably. My body had begun to tense, and I was sure I was not wanted there. Just then, a blood curdling, guttural sound came from in front of me. I bolted backwards, tripping over my feet. As I started running, a piercing howl emerged from behind me. The sound made me run faster, which made the leaves under my flimsy sandals crunch, giving away my location.
The noise grew louder, making my head shake and rumble with disbelief. As I kept my pace, the once hard barren floor was now soggy. I had entered the riverbed. My feet clung to my sandals, which were struggling to grasp the slimy, wet river. Once again, the voice bellowed throughout the woods. Unexpectedly, my feet gave out, and I was lying in the shallow part of the river. I had made a narrow escape.
Later that night, I made my way back to my house, living off the fact that I had lived. Those words echoed through my head. I lived.
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