This unbearable fog makes home onto the lens of my glasses and I can feel my perspiration dripping down my chest. Oh god, I really hope that's my sweat and not the spindly fingers of an unknown creature down my back. You'd think that I was running from you but I'm not. I'm just running in these woods, I'm not sure where I'm going, nor do I want to find out. I have a set quota that I must meet and I intend to do so. I just kept going forward the crunching of leaves under my strides that are only broken when the tree roots take hold of me, determined to slow me down as punishment for disturbing them this early. I make my way further into this brief interruption of suburbia and now my beads of sweat become visible to you. My eyes become blinded by the ever so soothing warmth of the sunrise, but that doesn't affect your gaze. My breathing becomes heavier as I travel uphill, enough for you to close your eyes and wonder if I'd breathe that heavy if I ever caught sight of you. You begin to wonder to yourself how warm my home is, how warm my bed is, how warm I am. You want to shed these layers that protect you from the approaching ice, but you just can't go back. The electrical currents of pain in your neck from following the image of me is ignored by your pleasure. I disappear from your sight but you know I'll be back around to evoke your fantasies once more. Oblivious to your perpetual stare, I return day after day. You grow restless when I do not return. You become left with the reality that you're not an owner of this land, but merely just another animal inhabiting these woods that will imprison you forever.