Panic

I run as fast as I can. My heart feels as if it is about to jump out of my chest and gain a life of its own. It hurts as I can feel it pound and it does its best to keep my blood going. It seems to be doing well as I can feel the red liquid pumping everywhere along with the adrenaline. My body is telling me to stop but there's no way I'm doing that without getting what I want. It's not like giving up is an option anyway.

My breathing gets faster and heavier and soon I'm panting like a dog who had just been on the biggest walk of his life. 

I had to do this. I had a point to prove. He wasn't getting away. Every step he took - I mimicked. Every turn he made - I was right behind. I didn't care about the gobsmacked faces that were our audience. I'd even push them out of the way if it came to it. The point of considering what people thought of me had disappeared a long time ago along with my self doubt. Nobody was stopping me hunting him down. 

History

I always remember my family telling me that I had a wild imagination and I would always make up situations in my head. But, I was only about 7 years old and I thought they were just little fantasies that every girl had. 

Until, one day, I sat down in my tiny box room that only really had room for a single bed. Every other piece of furniture in it looked as if it was crying out for more space, as it would stick out and not squeeze into the corners my mum had saved for them; She would hope that they would somehow lose a few inches off each side when she went to push them in - they never did.

I sat crossed legged in front of my lego play box. I often wondered why we had it as neither I or my sister were particularly fond of it. Although, we did like the pattern it would indent onto your skin after leaning on it for too long. There was something hilarious about 5 rows of identical dots along your arm that would disappear in a matter of seconds.

Mum brought me my first notebook - a purple pad with the Disney character, Eeyore on the front. I always wanted to like Piglet more as he was pink, but my sister told me that was her favorite, even though, she would tell everyone it was Winnie the Pooh. So, after seeing my cousins cuddly toy of the donkey, I thought I'd better have him as my favorite as Piglet was already taken.

I decided to write in my gold gel pen as I felt it suited my idea more than the other 20 pens in my denim pencil case and

I started to write about "The Lost Princess". I didn't really realise it was a story until I had finished. It was just an idea I had. That was the first time I realised I loved writing and I've wrote ever since. "The Lost Princess" isn't the best thing I've ever written, but it's definitely one of my favorites. I still have it to this day - and it reminds me that writing is the only thing I've ever wanted to do.