My sneakers hit the damp concrete road.  I was running, knife in hand to my grandmother’s estate, praying she’d come to my aid.  I pounded on the door, wasting no time.  The police wouldn’t think of coming here.  After all, my victim was the police and he foolishly believed me when I told him my grandmother was dead.
She opens the door and senses that I am in danger.  Without conversation, she snatches the scissors out of her drawer and started snipping away at my hair, attempting to give me a disguise.  After my hair was cut unevenly, she handed me a whole new outfit in addition to the few outfits I packed as I was escaping the crime scene.  She then handed me all the money in her safe. “Thank you.  For everything.”  I say looking back, making sure I don’t see any police cars.  “Get out. Go! Call me when you land somewhere safe.”
I have to get away.  There is absolutely no other option.  My victim absolutely survived.  I made sure of that.  I checked his pulse, and although slower and minimal, it was still there.  “He will be coming after you if you don’t keep running.  He probably already called up all his police friends to unite together to find you.” I pondered in my mind.  Of course, I didn’t want to hurt him, but if I didn’t do what I did, he would’ve killed me.
  Finally, after running for miles, I get to the bus station, now hearing sirens.  “Damn it,” I mutter, now breathless.  I take out some cash my grandmother provided me with and push people out of my way to get a bus ticket.  I can hear my victims voice call me, “ Freeze!  Ally Matthews, you are under arrest for attempted murder!” I don't know how he bounced back from his stabbing so quickly, but unfortunately, he did. I start to turn around, and I manage to turn an exact ninety degrees before I see an empty path I can run through.  I turn another  ninety degrees until I see his jet black eyes and pallid face staring back at me for what feels like years before I start sprinting. “Damn it!” he yells behind me.  As he was trailing me, his painting got softer and softer. He knows that he will never catch me.
I get on the bus closest to me. I had no idea where it was going.   All I know was that I needed to get away from the police officer.  The thing was he wasn’t just a police officer.  He was my victim; the man I stabbed.  He is my husband.