Okay, so, my mother's a psychopath, who for some reason thinks I got her sick and tried to kill her, and now she's determined to murder me. She killed my sister and a bunch of other sixteen year-old girls she thought might be me, and my father knew she'd been alive this whole time, and never told me?
Great.
"Well, enough talk," she said, stepping closer to your chair. "I still need to kill you, and make my quick getaway, so you should prepare yourself."
Without thinking, you pushed up off the little metal chair, letting the heavy rope slide off your arms and legs (you was surprised at how loose the knot was) and ran for it. Your mother looked truly surprised, and stood there a minute before dashing after you.
"Help!" you screamed, because that was all you could do at the moment, well, besides run for your life. Your mother was right at your heels, and you almost fell as a bullet whizzed past your head.
"You'd better stop girl! Or you're going to be in a world of pain!" You stifled a sob. If you started crying now, you wouldn't be able to breathe right while running.
"Help me!" You screamed again. Right, left, then right again, you dashed through the empty corridors. It looked like a school, with lots of rooms lining the walls and shiny white floors that squeaked as you ran.
"Help!" Down a flight of stairs, and you were on the first floor. Your legs were getting heavy now, and you could hear your pursuer close behind. She wasn't firing at you anymore, which probably meant she didn't have enough bullets left.
"Get back here you little brat!"
Oh, how you wished you had your suit with you. With your suit, you were -- or felt, at least -- invincible.
Too bad you didn't have it. The last time you'd defeated her was with it, and you didn't think you'd be able to do it again with just your bare hands, when she had a gun.
"Help me!" Your screams bounced off the walls. Then, you spotted a door to the left. Your breathing was ragged and your legs felt like they were going to turn to jelly. "Help me!" Each word ripped your throat raw.
You slowed down to push the doors open, then dashed out and into early morning. You'd been gone all night... You just hoped Hiro was looking for you.
"HELP ME!" You screeched. There was no one around, but there were houses a few blocks down. "Please, HELP!" You couldn't run any father, and both of you knew that. You pushed on for a few more steps, then just collapsed, breathing hard. She was on you in seconds, tackling you to the ground. "Help--!" but she shoved a hand over your mouth before you could continue.
A loud crashing sound shook the ground, and you looked up to see...
"BAYMAX!" You shouted. You'd already started crying, but now sobs racked your whole body, both out of relief, and out of knowing you were about to loose your life.
You were yanked to your feet roughly, and your mother's gun was pressed firmly against your temple.
"I'll kill her! Back off!" She hissed, her arm wrapping tighter around your stomach. You coughed and pulled at her arm, but that only made her squeeze harder.
At first, it looked like just Baymax had landed in front of you, but then, to your delight, Hiro stepped out from behind him.
"Put the gun... down," he muttered dangerously. Under all the circumstances (and that fact that there was a gun pressed to your head) you couldn't help but think how... hot Hiro looked then.
"Or what?" Your mother spat mockingly.
"Or I'm going to make your last minutes of life a living hell."