25Alex's POV:
I sprinted down the path, being wary of every noise around me or sensation that was sent through my body. My long, wavy black hair flapped in the wind behind me. "no, no, no!" I half-muttered, half shouted. I still didn't understand what had just happened.
As I fled the cabin, I started to feel the thoughts of what had just occurred seeping into my vision. The bloodied corpses of my parents lying on the kitchen floor... The floor scattered with items from the counters. The struggle was apparent. One of the intruding men was standing over my father with a look of horror on his face, as he stared at the gun he held. He had realized his mistake. The other intruder was different. I wasn't able to read the expression on his face, because he wore what seemed to be a ski mask. I had decided that I couldn't let them get away with this. I had grabbed my hatchet, and lunged at the man closest to the walled off staircase.
He had no time to react. I drove my hatchet into the front of his chest with all of the anger from the nights previous argument. I removed the hatchet and finished him off with a hit from a conveniently placed cast iron pan, knocked over during the struggle. Still warm from our late dinner, I thought.
I proceeded to grab the gun, and fire 4 times at the other man. I had heard sirens in the distance. Realizing what I had just done, I grabbed what I could and ran. The time had read 12:53 A.M when I fled. Here I was, not knowing what had just became of my life. The anger burned in my face. After what felt like hours, I came to a small clearing where the path seemed to veer off into. I nearly collapsed from exhaustion. After a few minutes of laying in the yellowed grasses and waiting to regain my energy, I sat up. I had to see what I had been able to grab from the cabin before I fled. I pulled open the zipper of my navy blue canvas backpack. Before I had even set my hatchet onto the grass, A thought came into my head.
The memories of the many times that I had been beaten. The times I had been thrown out of the house. Hell, I have more experience living out here in the forest than in the nearby city or inside of the cabin. I care about my parents death- but more than they would have mine. They never loved me, and they had expressed it in many ways, I thought. The flashbacks were seized from my vision, when I heard what I feared most: dogs.
Knowing my time was limited, and daylight was to come sooner or later, I zipped the pack closed. I slung it over my shoulder, and started to run. This time, I should be careful to not sprint, after all. I don't want to make noise or anything of the sort, I thought. I realized something, and I muttered "Well, this isn't going to work." I stepped off of the path, and ran through the forest. Of all times, my mother had finally actually used her phone for once, as we were being robbed. It appeared ironic that the one time she used it, it ended with me on the run from police. Running through the all too familiar Wasatch Forest, I could hear the faint cried and wails of sirens and the barking of dogs. "What am I thinking- hold on, what are they thinking!" I yelped as thoughts flooded my mind. Who did the police think I was? Another thief? The son of the two still dressed in their pajamas? A killer?Would they find out who I am? I came to another clearing much later, having escaped. I setup my tent and went to sleep.
I awoke with most of the muscles in my body aching. "Damn. I shouldn't have ran like that" I spoke to nobody in particular while I stretched. I surveyed and laid out the items I had gathered the night before. My hatchet, a flint without a steel, some spare clothing, medical supplies (painkillers, gauze, you get it: the usual), the empty pistol of first criminal that I had killed, a three person tent, canned food, several bottles of water, and money. I counted around three dozen quarters, taken from my father's nightstand, around a dozen dollar coins, that contained the usual yellow glow. It isn't much, maybe enough for a couple of days.
Unsure of the current situation of if I was a wanted criminal (I cringed at the thought). It would be best to get moving soon. I pulled down the tent, stuffed it into the already bulging bag, and set off. I pondered what would become of my new life. Something rustled to my right. Straying from my planned route to follow it, I realized my mistake all too late. As the creature seemingly disappeared, I the ledge came all too suddenly.
As I fell, I used what skills I had and whipped myself around, grasping for anything to help save me. Nothing, dammit I thought. I hit the ground with an agonizing THUD.
Keep in mind that this is an introduction, and I am fairly new to this. The other chapters won't be this short, and they will come out at around a rate of two per week, or more. Hopefully around 2-3 times the length of this. Aiming for a 2,000 page minimum on average. This was around 1,000 pages.
