Flee: to run away from a place or situation of danger; to run away from (someone or something).
When I think of fleeing something or someone the scene that is immediately brought to mind is this:
Feet pounding on the pavement, harsh, ragged breathing. The painfully sharp twinge in my left ankle that happens whenever I burst into a flat-out run without any warning. My lungs slowly seizing up a little more with each breath, my throat ripped raw from the air, the taste of copper in my mouth. Burning, straining muscles.
What fleeing typically looks like in my day-to-day life:
Avoidance. Sitting at my desk and flipping through articles from Facebook, reading fanfiction on the internet that is meant to gouge out my heart and rip it to shred before gently patching it back together and slipping it back inside. Watching hour after hour after hour of Hawaii Five O, NCIS, and Criminal Minds. Ignoring texts and instant messages or responding with the barest of minimum responses. Slowly atrophying into nothing.
Little Gentian 