writing prompt; open people.
Her face was planted in the damp leaves. Her arms outstretched and her palms flat on the ground. She whimpered softly as she heard footsteps coming from behind her. She had been running, faster than she ever thought she'd be able to in her life. A log had come out of nowhere, sticking out of the earth as if on purpose. She tripped and landed directly on her stomach, her head making a soft thud as it hit the dirt. She could feel the pressure of footsteps behind her and she scrambled to her feet in urgency.
"No, no," she shouted, running faster. She didn't know where to go. She didn't know where she was.
Suddenly, someone was tackling her and she was back down on the ground.
She screamed at the top of her lungs.
--
"Is that it?" she asked, wiping her hands on her trousers. "Did you want to do another take?"
The timid first year film student shook his head. He nearly looked like he was shaking where he stood.
"That was perfect. You're r-really good at this," he told her, his voice stammering.
"Yeah, well, next time you want me for a film, could you promise it won't be in the cold, and the mud?"