Prologue

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~~Edited and re-uploaded on May 24, 2013. :) Enjoy! 

 “I'm not sure this is a world I belong in anymore. I'm not sure that I want to wake up.”

― Gayle Forman, If I Stay

Prologue

The universe is out to get me. Now, it could be that I’m a bad luck magnet. Maybe I’ve angered Karma and she’s come for revenge. Either way, I’m pretty sure that the universe has been out to get me since the whole thing started. That’s just me, though.

Greens blur; bright green, leaf green, yellow green, pine green. An occasional shot of blue; rarely any yellow. Maybe some white, here and there.

Noise assaults my ears as I run, and I can’t help but grimace. I’d be quieter, but what’s the point of that? This is all in vain, I know, but I can’t let them get me. But, I can’t go on for much longer.  A catch twenty-two. Let them catch me and suffer a slow death, or keep running until something happens – my legs give out, my lungs explode, my heart beats out of my chest. Either way, I’m dead.

I nearly smile at the thought. I’d be dead. Dead! Gone, quick as a snap. A lifeless body; unable to comprehend anything - pain, sorrow, agony, happiness.

Happiness. It’s been so long since I’ve felt that. So, so long.

Shrugging away the thoughts, I focus on my breathing. Long, slow, breaths as I run. Or is it short, shallow breaths? My eyes drift to my feet, and I keep my head low, carful of the foliage around me. Rocks stab my fragile foot skin, causing them to bleed. I huff slightly – I don’t need a blood-trail. Frowning, I push myself harder. I’m getting to the end of my too short rope; my legs shake, my throat aches, and my head is swimming.

Suddenly, I’m sliding across the forest floor, tumbling downhill. Shit! My knee slams into a boulder. An arm somehow manages to twist behind my back, dislocating my shoulder. Something sharp digs into my ribs. A scream rips its way out of my throbbing throat, and in the back of my mind, I slap myself silly.

Now they’ll know exactly where I am.

And that is bad.

Really bad.

My slide comes to an abrupt stop as I slam into a boulder. Something cracks and I cry out again, tears streaming down my dirt-stained face. I let myself wallow in pain for a moment. Then with easy determination, I grit my teeth and relocate my shoulder, flinching internally as I scream again. Standing with newborn legs, I stumble away from the boulder, swiping my bangs from my eyes. Ignoring the pain is easy now. It’s a second nature for me. After all, in such a screwed up world, pain is number one. Inflicting pain is the universe’s second nature, especially if it’s me.

I smirk and hold up a middle finger to the sky as I step towards the cliff, wind blowing my hair. Damn universe; always trying to screw me over.

“When I get up there,” I say to the sky, “you’ll be sorry.”

The sound of a whistle causes me to whip my head towards the forest. On top of the hill, three dogs emerge, barreling towards me. They follow the same path as I did; yelping, whining, and screeching, the white, black, and brown pelts become one. They land in a heap, dazed, but shake it off in record time. I smile at them as they slowly stalk towards me.

“Why, hello there. Long time no see pals. How’s it going?”

They snarl at me, circling. My heart beats loudly in my ears as my adrenaline starts to spike again. The feeling doesn’t faze me anymore. I’ve experienced it too many times to count. When the world first went to shit, I’ll admit – every spike, every heartbeat, every muscle movement – it scared me. The sudden panic I’d feel, the knowledge that everything is out of my control – it scared the daylights out of me.

Now, though, it’s about as second nature to me as ignoring pain.

Calls from the top of the steep hill cause me to freeze, and I flit my eyes over the forest. Sure, it’s disconcerting for me to let my eyes stray from the dogs, but dogs are easy to predict – it’s the humans you have to look out for.

Not the dead, not the animals, but the living, breathing, humans.

Cliché, maybe, but if only I knew then what I know now. Maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess. If I had stayed with the group, I wouldn’t have ended up with these fiends chasing me. If I had trusted him –

“Good dogs! Ye found the bitch!”

The voice shakes me from my reverie as my eyes zero in on a tall man with a scar across his cheek. Two others are behind him, but I ignore them. Scar Cheek, as I so lovingly refer to him as, is the most dangerous. The others are just his goons.

Cliché? Yes. But isn’t that what life is? Just one big cliché.

The black dog leaps for me and I jerk away, standing on the edge of the cliff. I pinwheel my arms as wind blows around me, whipping my hair about and causing my dirty grey garb to billow.

I look up and gasp, stepping back instinctively and nearly off the cliff. They’re suddenly just there. Right in front of me. Scar Cheek smirks and pulls out a dagger, letting the tip dig into my cheek. Restraining a grimace, I spit in his face.

Silence hangs around us for a moment as his smirk becomes a frown and he glares at me.

If looks could kill.

“Do ye want to die, ye wretch?” he asks, his voice deathly calm as he pushes me slightly. I gulp, knowing that he’s beyond rage. I stare him straight in the eye. Its glint tells me everything I need to know. Quick as a beat, I lift my knee and nail him in the crotch. I nearly laugh – how could he not have seen that coming? Nevertheless, I spin around and propel myself over the edge, closing my eyes. Wind rips its way through my hair as I smile.

He would’ve killed me anyway.

Why not go out on my own terms?

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