Caught In The Moment

five - overcoming fear and another one takes its place

Hey everyone, thank you for taking the time to read and comment on my story. I'm sorry it took a little bit longer than expected but hopefully the quality makes up for it. I hope you enjoy it.

The picture to the side is of the jumpsuit that Megan wears. I pictured it a little different but that is pretty much exactly what I wanted. Hope you like it. :)

steph xxx

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He runs in front of gesturing for me to follow. I grunt, throwing my hands in the air while saying, "There's no use, I'm already drenched."

"We can get there quicker before anything else happens." He retorts, his hazel eyes staring deeply into mine.

"Nothing worse than what happened can occur." I say critically without even meaning to - my nerd side showing every now and again.

"Just catch up." He annoyingly says, back to his old ways I guess.

"Fine then mum." I snicker back at him. He looks back at me; his hair now that it is drenched falls almost onto his eyes. He glares at me before grabbing my wrist so I have to run. His hands clench at mine and I think I can feel bruising starting to swell. Does he know how hard his holding me. I clench my teach till the pain is nothing but a memory and all I can hear is the scraping of my teeth. Even when I stop, the ringing in my ears continues like a long howl from a wolf.

He is pulling me ahead, faster than my feet can take. My shoes skim the road before they are lifted up again. He makes it look easy. I am almost out of breath, my lungs inhaling and exhaling the fastest I've seen them in years. I've heard that when you walk you get less wet in rain. However now that we are running I'm don't feel as if I'm getting any wetter. It's most likely because the water that is on me is flying off because of the speed he is pulling me at.

I almost lose my footing when he pulls me around a tight corner that I didn't know was there but regain my momentum. He doesn't seem to care but still races forehead, not even a sweat on his face. But actually, he could be sweating and pretending their rain drops. That's right. A person like him would do something like that.

He pulls me down a long street which runs alongside the main road but swerves around trees and grassed areas. I run as fast as I can so he doesn't have to drag me because my wrist really hurts. The throbbing feeling travels up my arm and into my head like I'm having a headache.

Then I lose my footing. I've stepped on a branch; it snaps underneath my feet but rolls under my heel which makes me fall. The ground comes closer and closer which each passing second. I prepare myself for the impact with the ground - my hands in front of me to soften the blow. My knees hit the road and I can feel blood running down my jeans. Everything rushes back to me clearer than it had before - when I fell over on my bike. Every single detail is sharper, more precise like I am reliving the moment.

My hands hit the ground with force and I take my last breath before my chest hits the bitumen. Instead I am grabbed around my waist with something else hard - hands. His hands. They wrap around my waist and I feel the warmth oozing off them. He pulls me up and I stand in front him, his hands are still placed on hips and for a moment I am lost in his eyes, saying thank you a million times. Then the feeling is gone and I am flooded with anger. I don't know what I'm doing and in an instant my hands comes wiping up and slaps him across the face. His mouth is gaped open and so is mine. What have I done?

His eyes look at me as if to say, 'What the hell was that for?' Then he does say it, "What the hell was that for?" I cringe, grinding my teeth together - a really annoying habit I have. A red outline of my hand appears on his left cheek, which I am guessing is stinging really bad.