My breath seemed merely unstoppable as my forehead brushed across the bristle, which was sharper than my eyesight. Provided with a vast, empty lot, my surroundings remained unfamiliar. I could hear my skin crack as I reached for my phone to check the time. Dead. What now? I noted the deep maroon shack about a quarter mile from my position, which posed as a house. I only seemed to find myself wide-eyed, staring at the limp grass laying in front of my left toe, when I came to after the quick day dream I sought over; if a shabby teenage girl approached my front door, I wouldn’t bother to respond. Feeling sorry for myself didn’t seem to be an option, yet my only choice was to run. I wasn’t going to let them catch me like they got my brother; he taught me all that led to this. If they understood why it must’ve been taken, I know they would have let me have it. However, we’re in a twisted world, where law is greater than life, and tossing a soul into a closet is considered justice. I peeked down at my hand, where his words were written, “They kill a soul at the peak of its bloom, rather than sacrificing that of the womb.” Fresh paint was the only scent that could fill my nose, although I had painted my nails merely hours ago. I quickly reminisced of the checkout line. Only with money can I feel free, only with success can I live.