The Urge to Run

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So they sat there, in a puddle of their debilitating anguish, crying with each other as they mourned the loss of their third. It felt as though along with Y/N, apart of them was lost, too.


Rattling. Bumping. Shaking.

You woke up to the earthquake-like feeling of unstable wheels trudging their way through uneven terrain. You slowly came to consciousness, taking a moment to come back, not knowing how long you had been out for.

As you, without thinking, tried to bring your hands to your face in order to free yourself from the obstruction of your vision, you realized you could not move them. They were tightly secured behind you.

As you gained more consciousness with each waking second, panic set in. You began growing aware of what was happening, and what had happened before you were knocked out.

Before making a move, you decided to assess your surroundings, taking a few notes.

The light.

There was faint light seeping through the fabric that was placed over your head. It wasn't much, but you could tell it was different than when you fell out of it.

You were unsure of whether it was later in the early morning that day, or dusk. Maybe it was 4 days from now. A week. You couldn't tell.

Maybe if you sat up, you could take a better look around.

You flipped over onto your back, angling your arms in an attempt to push yourself up into a sitting position.

It was working.

Or, worked.

Creak.

The rickety wood underneath you made a noise louder than the trembling of the wheels on the dirt.

You felt everything halt to a stop.

Heavy footsteps bounded towards you as you heard the sound of bags shuffling.

There's no point in hiding now.

"Who's there?" You groggily called out to the unknown individual. You continued to only hear the shuffling.

"Who's there?" You asked again.

There was a few moments of silence as the bags stopped their noise.

"Hey, Y/N," you heard a familiar voice greet you. A familiar, warm, low voice.

"B-benjamín?" You stammered.

There was no response as you heard the bags continue in their shuffle, eventually moving closer to you.

"Benjamín, please," you began to plead, not wanting to be knocked out once again. "Do you really want to do this?"

As you said this, you heard a heavy sigh emanate from him with a tint of hesitancy. For a second, you felt hopeful. 

That is until you smelled that, now known, sweet smell. 

You at least knew who was with you, which was a start, but it sure was not enough.

"Benjamín, please," you weakly pleaded, feeling yourself drift off once more.



Camilo's POV:

Camilo sat with his feet dangling off the edge of the casita roof, looking out into the sunrise. He didn't get much sleep that night. After all, it had only been a few hours since Y/N left. He needed the time to process things.

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