Good Will Hunting Theme

I intend to write a piece of creative writing, demonstrating the theme of fear, inspired by the film ‘Good Will Hunting’ directed by Gus Van Sant. Written in the perspective of a young teenage girl being hunted by a predator. I hope to allude to the fear she feels as dusk arrives. With all her senses more alert she aims to survive the night, with her hunter nowhere to be seen. I plan to focus on her feelings as she attempts to run and remain hidden until dawn.

I pay no mind to my direction, escaping being the only thing that matters right now. With the road being the path my feet decide to take, the flash of headlights coming towards me is enough to near blind me as my body reacts like there's a gun to my head. With no time to decide which bearing from here, my feet unknowingly ghosts upon the forest floor as
I fly through and between the trees.
The track blurred below me as I felt the surge of both fear and adrenaline. The thumping of my footsteps echoed in my ears as I felt a bead of sweat roll down my forehead. It’s been just over 15 minutes now, my throat aches for more air, but I know I must keep going or else it will catch me.
I want to run quicker, but my muscles are frozen in place, filled with a tingling pressure and heavy of lactic acid. Light is now becoming a limiting factor. As it drains away, the shadow of the trees blend into the blackness and their silhouettes against the sky grow less pronounced. Black trunks against an almost black backdrop doesn’t make for much to see, and my imagination begins to supply horrors to fill the void.
Only the heart beating in my chest stops me from becoming as frozen as the landscape. Whether I like it or not the darkness comes and under it everything in this forest is hidden. Even the stars and moon cower behind a dense layer of cloud, giving the air that tincture I associate with the world before a storm.
If my heart beats any harder, any louder, I may as well stick a spotlight on my head.
This silence is a poison. My ears become sharper and my mind more paranoid, every snap of a twig is the predator. It is disorienting to be almost blinded but given the ears of a wolf. For each aroma my brain jumps to the most fearsome thing it could be and my body prepares for flight, fright or freeze. For the most part I just freeze, running will just give my position away and I'm not much of a fighter. The silence only seems to intensify my fright, along with the darkness that’s robbing me of my best sense replacing it with paralysing fear. All I can do is wait while the blackness comes and pray that the dawn is not far behind. The earth is at it’s richest tone having bathed in the rain, I sit on the damp ground, feeling the frigid water seep into my jeans. My heart can beat all it wants, but this body won't move until daylight breaks through the canopy above. I want to see tomorrow enough to make me hold this position for as long as it takes. With my hands resting in the soil and my back to an oak, with the rough bark scrubbing at my skin. I remain, waiting,
breathing..