You Can't Run Forever

Running.
I'm running.
As fast as my feet will carry me.
They hit the pavement as I run down the street.
Twigs snap and leaves crunch under foot,
As I run through the woods.
My heart is pounding,
It feels as though it will burst out of my chest.
But I can't stop. Not now.
I can't waste the time to glance behind me
to catch a glimpse
of my pursuer.
I know that it's back there, chasing me, hounding me.
Its shadow looms on the pavement in front of me.
A massive, dark, shapeless form.
I can feel its hot, hungry breath on my neck.
Sweat trickles down my face and back.
My throat is parched, it's hard to breathe.
I don't think I can run anymore.
I have to stop. But if I do
That thing back there, that horrible thing,
Will catch me.
Can I risk that?
Can I run forever?
Would death be better than this?
The running and running, not knowing what will happen?
Would it be better to be dead?
My footsteps slow.
I can hear it lumbering behind me.
I can imagine its eyes glowing an eerie red and its yellow fangs dripping with saliva.
I can't face it, but I can't keep running.
By now I've run so long
I can't feel the pain.
Maybe I CAN run forever.
I trip; my hands then body hit the pavement with a smack.
I thought I could run from it forever
but maybe death would be better.