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September 7, 2007
Fully aware of how absurd a cliché she’s being, she slaps herself firmly across the face. She giggles a little as the heat spreads across her face and her eyes come into sharper focus. Gritting her teeth she heads down the alleyway; running at this speed she doesn’t leave a blood trail, but red flicks towards the walls and she paints her track in a series of spatters as her legs propel her forward.

She reaches the lamppost with the burnt out light and grabs it on her way past, changing her angle without slowing down. She can’t slow down.