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They're here.

I sit up abruptly in my bed and throw off the covers, creeping up to my bedroom door. The door is just barley cracked open, but light is spilling through.

I'm breathing way too fast, trying to be as quiet as possible. The knocking at the front door is getting louder and more aggressive.

I reach one trembling hand to my bedroom door, and just before a reach it, it's pushed open. I gasp, shading my eyes with one arm as the light from the hall blinds me.

I relax just a little more as I see it's my mother approaching. But she looks scared and it makes my heart pound harder.

"Amelia," she breaths, pulling me into her arms, "we must go. Now."

I nod automatically.

"It's them, isn't it?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

Before she responds, My father walks into the room and locks the bedroom door behind him. I hear a loud crash come from downstairs and I know that the agents kicked down the door.

"We are here for Amelia Hope," a booming voice declares.

I flinch. My mom tucks a loose strand of hair from my face. "We'll be okay. Like always. We'll protect you."

"They've never broken in before," I observe quietly.

My mother sighs. "They are getting impatient. We've run too many times. They'll stop at nothing to catch you— but..." she glances over at my father who is opening my bedroom window, "...your father and I would sooner die than watch them take you."

I swallow back tears and force myself to nod.

BANG.

A hit to my bedroom door causes me to jump. My heart is racing so fast I feel like it might explode.

My mom and dad are yelling, moving me along, and before I even know it, we're running.

Always running.

I'm in pajama pants and a thin tank-top, but that doesn't stop me from running as fast as I can.

In an instant, I'm at my dad's beat up pick-up truck, and I'm waiting for my parents to catch up to me. They're so far behind. So much slower than me.

I'm ten times faster than anyone I've ever met, and I have no idea why. I'm always first in a race and it's never close. No one is ever even nearly as fast as me. My parents soon found out I can run as fast as 59 miles an hour. That's not human. I don't know what I am, but I've been trying so hard to live a normal life.

These agents— these irritating agents— won't let that happen. No matter where my family moves, they find me. They insist that I need to be in their custody for my own good, that I'm not human and that they need to run tests, that I can't be trusted, that I'm dangerous.

I don't understand. I would never harm anyone— so why do they think that of me? I don't know. I have so many questions and so little answers.

My parents make it to the car parked on the road just as the agents start pouring out of the front door of our little house.

"Get in, get in!" my father shouts, jumping in the driver's seat.

Before I can even close the door, he's hit the gas pedal.

We're driving. We're driving so fast that everything out the window is just one big blur.

Sirens sound behind us. Blue and red light flashes in the rear view window.

They're just behind us.

My fathers truck will never outrun them. The agents have caught on to us, learned our tactics— the way we escape, the way we run.

This is it. The time is finally here. They're going to catch us.

Bullets.

I hear the metal pellets ricocheting off the truck and duck reflexively.

They're shooting at us.

They want me dead?

Maybe they're sick of chashing us, maybe they think it's best that I die. I have no idea, no idea what they want, what their goal is.

It's a mystery that I don't want to solve.

An unfortunate hit to the tire of the pick-up sends the truck swerving off-road and into a tree. I barley feel the impact over my panic.

"Lia— Amelia," my mother turns to me in the back seat with frantic eyes, "you run, you hear me?"

I'm shaking, and I can't stop. "What? No— No, I can't leave you guys."

"We can distract them. They don't want anything to do with us," my father says. "They only want you."

"Which is why you have to go," my mother adds. "And never look back." She takes my hands in hers. "Never stop running, okay? Don't ever give up. Keep moving."

I stare at her in shock as a tear rolls down her face. My bottom lip is trembling uncontrollably.

"Okay, Lia?" she prompts.

I pull myself back into my head and focus. I nod in assurance, and my mother smiles.

"Okay." My voice is weak and shaking.

I want to break down. But I have to hold it together.

I have to do this. I have to move on without my parents. I've recently turned 18, but I didn't think I'd be on my own so soon. I haven't even finished high school.

I grab my father's hand and then my mother's hand and squeeze. "I love you."

I climb out of the car, daring a look at the agents. Their police cars are stopped just behind us, and one man sees me.

"There! Stop your fire!"

I'm gone.

Running so fast I feel like I might not be able to stop. My legs keep working, faster and faster, I can't even see the trees as I zip through the forest.

I feel electric. Like electricity is running through my blood, thrumming throughout my veins. The feeling of power is euphoric. Like I can do anything.

Their cars can't come through here— the forest— and they don't have a chance to chase me down by foot.

So I'm free.

But what the hell am I supposed to do now?

I can't run forever.

I can't be a lost soul forever, right?

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