Running From Blood

I ran down the street, the police cars zooming behind me. My entire body is covered in blood. Everything was just okay. Until. . .Until his head exploded, splashing blood on anyone around him. A police officer grabbed my arms, shouting. I cried. A 23 year and old and I'm crying.

I'm crying because I don't know whose head will explode next. Running down the street with this cop as more heads blow up, it's like a video game, then all of a sudden the cop was no longer holding my arm, his head exploded...

and now I was alone, the only person on my block whose head hasn't exploded yet. I ran as fast as I could, dashing out of the neighborhood, as I saw cars swerve into fire hydrants because the drivers' heads exploded. Tears clouded my eyes, preventing me from seeing the cowboy.

Or at least what I THOUGHT was a cowboy. Turns out it was actually the headless horseman! He was the one bringing this curse upon the land. I sprinted away not knowing that I could not escape him. His cold bony hands grabbed my wrist and dragged me up onto the horse. We rode away

And here I sit, penning my tale, on the Headless Horseman's Headless Ranch. Nothing here has a head, not the cows, not the chickens, not the dog—only me. You might think that horrible, & it was disturbing at 1st, but then I realized how privileged I am because I get to wear hats.