Water on the pavement was seaping through my thin leather shoes and splashing the pure white tights a dirty brown colour. My lungs were burning, every breath a struggle. The ringing of the bells continued, and when I dared glance behind me, tiny specks of blue light flashed in the distance. The noise wasn't getting softer, like it should have been. The noise was following me.
"They're coming," I gasped desperately, sinking slightly into his arms as I tripped along, "They're following..."
"No Molly, you're fine," he replied, his voice strangely calm, "Just carry on a little longer. They're way back there now."
In the dark, everything looked the same. We ran together underneath the streetlamps, so when I focussed on the ground, bright orange light blinked on and off as we passed them. Wind whipped my face.
Then, for the first time, a vision of my parents flashed in my mind, and it made me stumble. They were in the audience. They would be looking for me. They would go into the dressing room and find me gone. And then they would know.
Then they would know what I'd done.
It was a battle between my head and my heart. Head said run; run like you're being chased by a hungry lion and don't stop until he says so. My heart told me to turn, go back and find them, even if it did mean facing the consequences. Even if my heart were to win, it was impossible to do so anyway. His grip was too tight on my arm. I had to carry on.