She Can Run Novels & Stories

I froze. "You !!" She said like she was trying to confirm something. "We can't run" Sherry whispered. I'm so doomed!! . .

Some mocked saying she wouldn't make it, others watched with their mouths parted in awe. She was not running like them. She was running as though the ground itself was her enemy and she would conquer it or die. The sun dipped lower, shadows stretching across the field. Time bled away mercilessly with just five minutes left. “l… can… do… this,” she panted, each word bitten out between clenched teeth. “l… CAN… DO… THIS.” Her cries grew louder, her scream carrying like a war horn. The field trembled beneath her desperate strides.

I must say that Ralph was sharp to recognise such tactics, much better than Mark could ever be. I took the other apple he had peeled and said mockingly, "Oh, it's probably depression." After a pause, I emphasized, "Severe depression." Ralph was amused, "How can she be severely depressed? She has schizophrenia. I reckon she has to go to a mental hospital. Only symptomatic treatment can cure her problem." I laughed out loud. Mark looked at me in disbelief.

This gіrl is fіt. She’s a runnеr or ѕоmеthіng; thе соrе strength іѕ оbvіоuѕ іn thе wау ѕhе hоldѕ hеrѕеlf, аnd bу the muscles іn hеr аrmѕ.

I kept checking on her from the corner of my eye but she ran like she had never been sick. Like her chest hadn’t once been weak and like she hadn’t spent weeks in the hospital bed with tubes in her node. She was small but she had fire in her. Her feet hit the ground in quick steps and every now and then she’d skip instead of run, just to do something different.

I yelled increasing my speed, I used to run races back at highschool does she thinks she can defeat me. "Stop" she shouted her voice barely heard, I turned again expecting to see her standing but the girl doesn't look like she is willing to surrender, she was still running. I sighed annoyed as I increased my speed again, I am thirsty I seriously don't have strength for this, I don't even know where I am running too, but as long as it would get me far away from her I would continue running.

I murmur, and for the first time since I was born—I’m not sure I can win this. She lifts her face. Her eyes blaze like broken suns. And she whispers, almost tender: “Run.”

I’m only trying as hard as I can to fight his urges back, but I know I can’t fight him off for long—not especially with a full moon out. With great effort, I force the word out, a single broken syllable caught between restraint and desperation. “Run.” For a heartbeat, she doesn’t move. She stands before me, frozen... processing. Then a look of realisation. That’s right, little Mouse. Run while you still can. She bolts, long dashes eating up the distance, disgruntled pants and soft thuds filling the air while she runs like her life depends on it—and maybe it does. She’s always had a way of testing my control, but this? This is lethal.

She would try to cheer him up but he would just give her a small smile and say everything would be ok. But Eloisa could see in his eyes that he was troubled. Then one day, she heard her parents fighting. Her mom never liked her father's shipping business even though she never said anything. Eloisa had a wonderful day at the school that day. It was the annual sports day at school and she had won the first prize in long run. She had always been athletic. She had run all the way to home to show the prize to her parents. But now she stood in front of the door of the room inside which her parents were yelling at each other. She had never heard her mother yell. Her mother was usually a very calm p

I asked. “What?” she said, not looking at me. “I was wondering if I could go for a run?” She paused, lifting her hazel eyes to me. “Why?” she asked. “I haven’t run in a while. Bervely runs almost every day with her friends after school. No one will be running now; everyone’s in school. I’ll go deep into the forest, like usual,” I tried to reason. She frowned, pursed her lips, and wiggled her nose in thought.