I ran. I ran barefoot in the forest, ad fast as I could. My hair flowed in the air, my face covered with blood. I ran. Ran away. Out of the forest and into the city. People stared at me as I were a mad animal. I didn't care. I ran away, trying to escape death. My ripped Jean shorts were sliced by his scythe, the left over of my top slowly being removed. I ran faster, as fast as the speed of light. I ran away from peering eyes, away from society, away from life. I ended up in an alley. I gasped as a hand covered my mouth. Death had caught me. He whispered sweet nothing into my hair, telling me not to fear him. I doubt it and tried to pull away. He grabbed me and forced me to look at him. His black hood, his demonic wings. Most importantly, his scythe. He sensed my fear and traced the tip of his scythe along my neck. I wanted to run, run away from him. But I knew I couldn't. He laughed and caressed my cheek. His fingers and hands were bones. They froze any mortal's blood. But not mine. I pulled away, catching my breath. I was ready to endure death. I was ready for anything. Yet he didn't kill me, he just went closer. He did the unthinkable and pulled his hood off. A glance of his eyes would've killed you, but I survived. His hair was auburn and his eyes were green. Just like mine. He wasn't bad looking, pretty handsome. He read my mind and grinned. I blushed a shade of red and stood up. If I wasn't going to die, I was going home. I left the alley and ran home. I ran with tears in my eyes. I knew what I am now and I wasn't proud. I was immortal.