Run With The Devil

Running Away

I stared at the sandwich in my hand, the strawberry jam smeared across the bread feeling almost foreign now. My hesitation was palpable, but I needed to say what had been weighing on me. "To be honest," I began, my voice trembling slightly, "I just want to run. It helps. I mean, even when I was in the lab, you know, being tested on while running in that big room, I used to think about my problems, the exhaustion, the pain."

I paused, looking down at the sandwich as if it held all the answers. "But one day, I didn't feel any of it anymore. And running became like an escape route for me. I don't know if you'd understand, but..."

Before I could finish, I felt Deon's hand gently but firmly take hold of my wrist. Without a word, he led me through the house and out into the garden. The night air was cool, and the garden was lit by the soft glow of the moon. Deon guided me to a spot near the large round pool and then stepped back, his eyes serious yet understanding.

"Run," he said simply, releasing my wrist. There was no further explanation, just the single command.

I looked at him, a mix of confusion and relief in my eyes. Deon took a seat on a bench opposite the pool, watching me intently. I felt an odd sense of freedom in his gesture, like he was giving me permission to do what I had needed to do for so long.

I took a deep breath and walked toward the grassy area. The cool blades of grass felt oddly comforting beneath my bare feet. Without wasting another moment, I began to run.

At first, it was just a normal pace, but soon, I increased my speed. Everything around me started to blur, the world shrinking to a mere line of colors and shapes. My heart pounded in my chest, but it was a familiar rhythm, one that I welcomed.

I ran faster and faster, until the grass beneath me seemed to catch fire from the friction. Smoke began to rise from the soles of my slippers, but I didn't care. My speed was exhilarating, a wild rush that consumed all my senses. The faster I went, the more the world slowed down around me.

My thoughts, worries, and fears dissipated in the wind as I broke through the barriers of my own mind. There was no pain, no exhaustion; just a liberating sense of freedom that came from being in motion. I could see Deon watching from the bench, a distant figure against the backdrop of the pool. His presence was a silent affirmation that I wasn't alone, even in my most frantic moments.

I continued running, pushing myself to the edge of my limits, feeling the exhilarating rush of pure speed. For a while, it was just me, the wind, and the endless stretch of grass. The world was a blur of motion, and I was finally free.

Deons pov

I sat on the bench by the large round pool, watching as Lyra ran across the grass. Her speed was nothing short of astonishing. The way she moved-so fluid, so effortlessly-was mesmerizing. I could see the smoke rising from the soles of her slippers as she pushed herself faster and faster.

I had hoped that letting her run would give her the release she needed. From the moment I had seen her in that kitchen, so conflicted and burdened, I knew she needed more than just words of comfort. I had hoped that the freedom to move, to escape her thoughts through physical exertion, would provide her with a semblance of relief.

Lyra's form was a blur of motion, the grass beneath her seeming to surrender to her speed. Watching her, I was reminded of why I had chosen to offer her this freedom. There was something primal and pure about her running, something that spoke of a raw need for escape and liberation.

I knew she had been through a lot-her past was a painful enigma, and her isolation was a clear sign of the scars she bore, both physical and emotional. But seeing her like this, lost in the speed and the rush of the moment, I understood that she needed this. She needed to feel alive and powerful in a way that only running could provide her.

I could see the determination in her eyes, even as they were partially obscured by the blur of her movement. She was pushing her limits, fighting against the remnants of her past, and finding solace in her strength. It was a beautiful, albeit intense, display of resilience.

After what felt like an eternity, she began to slow down, her breath coming in heavy, rhythmic gasps. I could see her muscles relaxing, her speed tapering off. Her form gradually came into focus, and she eventually came to a stop, standing still and panting heavily. Her hair, once perfectly styled, was now tousled and wild, her cheeks flushed from the exertion.

I stood up from the bench and walked over to her. As I approached, I noticed the look of exhaustion mingled with relief on her face. There was a vulnerability there, but also a strength that I admired.

"You look like you needed that," I said softly as I reached her side. My voice was calm, meant to soothe rather than disrupt her moment of peace.

Lyra looked at me, her eyes still reflecting the intensity of her run. "It helps," she replied, her voice breathless but earnest. "Running... it's the only thing that seems to clear my mind."

I nodded, understanding her sentiment. "I can see that. You're incredible, Lyra. I hope you know that."

She managed a small smile, her breathing gradually returning to normal. "Thanks, Deon. I needed this."

I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Anytime you need to run, or if you need anything else, just let me know. I'm here for you."

As we stood together by the pool, I felt a renewed sense of connection with her. It wasn't just about providing safety or protection anymore; it was about understanding and supporting her in ways that mattered most. The garden, with its quiet and its stars, felt like a temporary refuge-a space where she could be herself, even if just for a little while.