That day their life was changed forever and the man was lost in his thoughts, picturing the events of his past life in his mind. He dreamt of waking up early and heating his breakfast, reading newspapers, then going to work as a company employee, where his days remain monotonous and devoid of any excitement.
Every morning the man walked to work at a slow pace constantly looking at the traffic in the city as if all the cars were moving in tandem with him, as if life was as monotonous as a line of cars on a highway. He went home to his small apartment after work, cooked for himself eating a simple supper before spending most of his evenings in front of the phone or computer reading novels in the hope of getting out of the boredom of the life he led.
He started liking the fictional novels especially the ones involving cultivators or incredible journeys of warriors who aspire to higher spiritual powers, martial arts, and thus spiritual transformation beyond the mundane normality of life. He is immediately drawn by that enchanting world, a world which appeared much more real and less monotonous as compared to his life that was as level as a flat surface.
That is why this man, loving such stories, could not even dream of such fateful turn of events in his own life. That is why the monotonous and lightless schedule of the main character's daily life was so strongly felt, he was so stuck into a routine day by day there were no or little unexpected events. Awaking in the morning going to work arriving home at night, going to bed, and doing work all over again the next day.
Every night the man dreams and in his dreams he was depicting the last normal day he had before the rather unfortunate turn of events. The next day he arrived at home from the office in the same manner as usual.
By the time he was done with the shower and had some simple dinner, he took his phone and opened an application for the latest update from the novel that he loved most. He got lost into the narrative, felt he was in a different country, in a different reality…a world where he could be somebody strong, a warrior, more importantly a living life full of zest and vigor.
He read until his eyes got weary, and then he did not know it, but he was in bed asleep.Having opened his eyes in dreams the man found himself in an entirely different reality. If he had been presented with walls of his apartment with which he was confined to, he instead was in a large park that was unknown to him.
The air was fresh and slightly cold to him, a faint sweet smell of fresh cut grass wafted through the air and tall trees stood around the area with fresh green foliage. The sun was shining brightly, it seemed as of it was smiling at him. Initially he didn't understand. For a while he try to think whether this was perhaps only some kind of odd dream he was having or perhaps he has been placed in to one of the fictional stories that he occasionally enjoys reading.
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He looked around furiously to tell when he was and anything that could point out his location. However, it appeared to him as if everything was so far removed from he normal existence of a human being. He recalled in his dream the kind of feeling he had when he was scared and bewildered. The environment, though was so serene, was somehow unnatural. It lacked the structures and the tarred roads as well as the noise of the city that was still in the process of waking up during his usual morning walks.
One day he heard auscultation from a distance. He almost immediately looked back and got to see a large number of people charging towards him. In his mind, he had hoped that they could assist him initially since they seemed to know what they were doing. Instead he was met with a calming relief, he started fanning himself hoping to speak to the two and ask where he was. Nonetheless as they moved closer he saw what was amiss. They were looking at him with eyes of fury and screaming at him.
"Stop! Criminal, don't run!" "Criminal?" The man was stunned. He was clueless to what was going on. That is why they were calling him a criminal? He hadn't done anything! Almost in slow motion, he attempted to try to speak out rightly saying, "Stop, I don't know what is going on, it's all a mistake or something."But their shouts came out in an uncoordinated manner, hence overwhelming his own words.
None of them looked like they cared or like they had heard what I'd said. This group of people drew nearer and the man felt a surge of real fear within him and thought he was in great danger. They did not appear as men who were going to listen—they appeared more like men who were prepared to forcibly arrest him.
In seconds he didnt think but he just acted on reflexes of the human instinct of self preservation. He turned and started to run as hard as he could, and he try to close the distance to his opponent. His legs were lively and there was only intensity of fear when he stepped, thereby making the ground vibrate. His heart was beating inside his chest, his sweat droplets on his forehead. The group continued to chase him and their voice was still echoing in his ears.
"Don't let him escape!"
These words was ringing in his ears, and raising his adrenaline to the high heavens. The only problem was that he did not have an idea of where he could flee to. The park was to large and although there were a lot of trees in the area, he could not locate somewhere he could find a hiding place. Every movement was slow, he could barely lift his legs and he struggled for every breath. But he couldn't stop. Ninety miles north from the Mexican border he was again a hunted man and wherever he turned back the thumbs were on sight.
In the dream, he remembered very well of feeling the desperation to creep into his mind set. In his mind, it was the thought that kept recurring, "Why is this happening to me?" Last but not least, the organizations and their members' question is, ''What do they want from me?"
Nevertheless, there were no solutions. No explanations. Only the suffocating fear. His legs went on moving, even though the fatigue lined his face. He could only find himself wondering if there was a way out of this, but that hope seemed to diminish whenever he took a look back and saw them chasing after him.