jackalope-- p. maximoff★

one.

                                                  ♬=  play music (no music in this chapter)

HARRIET PERCIVAL AMES BROWN IS IN TROUBLE.

After a lengthy few years of running from danger, Harriet had found herself drenched in it.

As her footsteps are heard echoing down the hall, Harriet thinks to herself, How in the world did I get here? Whatever did I do to deserve this? Then again, it's not like she's being tortured, so that's a plus.

She sighs as she checks behind her for any sign of the strange person that had been following her just two minutes ago.

When she sees there is no sign of the mysterious stranger, she takes this as a sign to rest.

Sliding down against the wall, Harriet breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth.

"Keep running." A voice says from across the hall, causing Harriet to whip her head around.

The German-ish accent--Russian?--catches her off guard, making her blurt out a curse word. Her eyes meet a pair of blue ones, boring right into her soul.

"They'll catch you. Keep running." The blue eyed boy looks at her as if he expects her to have some form of initiative. She probably should but she's too busy looking at him. Uh. Who's gonna catch me?  WHAT? 

Harriet scowls. "Who are you?" The boy smiles teasingly, not answering her query. She squints, trying to place a name to the boy's face but not recognising him.

The boy rolls his blue eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. He doesn't look younger than 23. He does look like he has a wig on, though. "Did you not hear what I said, stupid girl? You must keep running." He makes the sentence sound like a snide insult.

Harriet narrows her eyes, crossing her arms to mimic those of the guy across from her. A part of her wants to stay and wipe the cocky grin right off his face. Although that's probably incredibly petty. No, that's just really petty.

She weighs her option and concludes it better to prioritise her safety over her pride. Duh.

She rises to her feet, ignoring the faint snicker from the boy and starting to run again.

★

Harriet is exhausted.

As she unlocks the door to her apartment, she groans, closing the door behind her when she enters. Her old door decorations make a light jingling noise, signalling her return home. She'd like to not think about the chasing thing now.

If anything, she needs less drama.

Although, that peaceful idea is tarnished by the sight of an ominous/weird/creepy looking letter on the table. Probably just mail. Mail. Mail sounds good. 

After a few more minutes of lingering and internal gaslighting, she makes an ultimatum for herself-- she could open the letter, or inform authorities about the dangerous encounter from earlier-- and she wants to do neither.

It reads in hardly legible handwriting;

Dear Harriet,

I hoped i wouldn't have to write this letter.

This is not a matter to dawdle over, so i will put it simply; you are in grave danger.

★

authors note: how was that? this isn't my first novel but i feel like it's an okay start. i will probably edit this when i've finished and cringe over possibly terrible writing, none of my gifs are working so some might be random lol

edit: i'm editing [fire emoji fire emoji]

-m.d