|Thump, Thump, Thump.
My feet pound against the asphalt. Rain streams down my face, soaking my jeans and sweater. I splash through puddles reflecting the yellow streetlights. My breathing is ragged. I stumble over a curb, paying it no heed. My lungs burn. My feet ache with a dull throbbing pain.
But still I run.
My cheek stings from where she slapped me. The scars on my arm feel frozen. My black hair is plastered to my face. I've been fleeing headlong into the dark, stormy night for hours, desperately striving to escape the pain. I fly not from danger, but from memories. They haunt me every night, causing me to jolt awake, sure that my Father had just attempted to stab a knife through me.
After six hours I had forced myself to my limits. I sit on a curb, my feet in the gutter. Icy cold water rushes over my feet. I don't care. I was already soaked and cold. The inky blackness of night seems to swallow me up. Not even the light from the lampposts can penetrate it.
I loved it, being the night creature that I am.
I run my tongue over my feline fangs. As I stared out out at the world from underneath my bangs I realized how far I'd come in my wild and reckless flight. I had never seen this part of the city before. The school was the farthest I'd ever been. A shudder more violent than the others ran through me at the thought of North Seacoast High. I never understood how humans took school. I was used to the bullying, but that didn't make it any better. I would be glad to leave this place. Nothing I loved was here.
And that made me remember.
I fought the memory every inch of the way,but still, it came. Warmth suddenly rushed through me. I remembered Him. That last hug. He had looked into my eyes and whispered, " Whatever you do Phoenix, promise me one thing. Never give up." And then he was gone. Guilt was flooding through me already. I finally managed to put a stop to the horrible memories invading my head. I made myself forget again, but deep down, I knew it would always be there.
My breathing had slowed. I forced myself to my feet and pulled up my hood. My hand slid automatically down to the top of my boot, stark white against my black jeans. After ensuring that my dagger was there and would stay there, I straightened up and fixed my eyes on the horizon.
It was time to run.
Ok Ok, I know it needs work, but review please?? Thanks!! Violeteyes
© Copyright 2012 violeteyes (UN: meghouli at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
violeteyes has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
|Log In To Leave Feedback|