I don't stop running until I hit my bed. I collapse in a heap of tears and matted hair. I rub my hands over my sweaty and oily face, feeling sticky as I finally stop. I didn't know when I started crying, but I am.
I hate this. I hate not seeing them. I hate having to steer myself away. It doesn't feel good. It feels like I'm tied to strings, and if I move a certain way, they'll snap.
I want to scream, I really do. I try to open my mouth, to let out the tearing yelps that echo through my brain. But, I can't. It's like my mouth is sewed. Sewed shut.
I whimper through my closed lips at this. It hurts. My own screams hurt. They create raw wounds in my head. Tearing and bruising and numbing my brain matter.
I hear footsteps. They are getting louder, and more of them come into view. I tune in my head. I read their thoughts.
Scott, Malia, Liam, Lydia, Cassidy, Paige. They're here. It's there thoughts.
How did they get in?
I must've left the door open in the midst of my running. They can't see me! They can't see me like this! What do I do?
I turn towards my window, open and curtains rustling through the airy night wind. I gulp, scratch for the sweatshirt across my bed, and slip it on. I hop out my window, just as I hear a doorknob click open. I run.
I don't exactly know why.
But I run.
I don't know where I'm going, but I know I can't put them in harm again.
Because I still feel a twinge of blackness inside me.
I don't know if it's the feeling of running away, or if the serum only partially worked.
And I guess I think running away, leaving all my stuff will make it go away. I guess I think running away will leave the darkness as well.
The wind takes my breath away, and my hair keeps getting in my face. Though, I run faster. My legs looking like Long blurs, feeling as if they are barely touching the ground. My arms sway side to side, brushing against my sides, the sweatshirt hoodie hanging barely onto the back of my head.
Part of me says this feels good.
Part of me says this is going to cause a bigger problem.
