Paranoia
In a large room with 3 other people. One is sitting and the other two are standing, facing a flat tv screen. I get this funny feeling something bad is about to happen between the three men. Out of nowhere, the guy standing, shoots the guy sitting in the chest, he slumps over. I realize I just witnessed a murder, start running for the door, as the guy standing with the gun, shoots some sort of feathered needle of lead at me. I think I escaped without a scratch, until I reach the downstairs of this large mansion. What appears to be a needle of lead in my arm, is etching its way further and further below my skin. I try to scrape it out, like removing a splinter, but to no avail. Five minutes later my arm starts to go limp, I lose all feeling in it, and realize my paralysis has just begun. I figure I�m probably going to die pretty soon, but that I might as well put up a fight or get the hell out of there. I frantically grab my backpack, some clothes, and wallet, and open the screen door. Trying to un-move the blinds, I slip out the door, hop over the balcony, and start my run. As I�m running down a block, I�m being chased by a car with the two guys from the mansion in it. I�m not sure where in hell I should go, just that I should keep running. From far away I spy a mall, and ran into it. I head up the escalator, with the two guys hot on my tail, always a few steps behind me. I don�t know how much longer I can keep running, until I run into an Indian family. A husband, wife, and a toddler. At the same time, there is a mirror in front of me, giving me the reflection of the two guys running from the escalator. I anxiously ask the husband, �can you help me?� while I drag him into the elevator with me. He doesn�t answer, but instead leaves with me, leading me to the parking lot, where his white mustang is waiting. He drives while I explain the situation. The two guys, again, right behind us swerving through cars. He realizes my need and retrieves two revolvers and a 9mm from under his red leather seat, with single bullets for each revolver. The lead in my arm has healed, surprisingly. Finally, both cars reach a dark brown wharf, it�s a dead-end though. He swings the car around, so we�re facing the oncoming one. I pull out the 9mm and load a cartridge in it. I understand that it is now kill or be killed, everything gets summed up here. We open the car doors, and crouch behind them, ready position, with gun in hand. Fade out. I wake up in a large motel/suite room: a king bed, two lounge chairs, an oval table, and bedside lamp. You�re waking me up. You�re nudging my shoulders. I�m slow to responding, after the blood-pumping escape. My eyes begin to adjust to the light, as I hear someone prying the door open. Paranoia kicks in as I think �they�ve found me at last�. Running to the door, grabbing my gun off the table, I swing the door wide open, slamming it against the wall. Only to see the owner of condo, checking if the door locks work. Shocked at my own outburst, I begin to take in the atmosphere. Somewhere very far away, by a seaside port. It�s quiet outside, sunny, warm, very quaint. Somewhere in Florida, maybe the keys. But all this majestic peace is broken, by the thought that �they�ll find me someday�.not safe for long�nothing lasts forever��
