Clutching the handlebars as hard as I could in order to stay balanced, my legs began to burn, my vision blurred, and sweat formed. I stared at my wristwatch that loosely dangled around my wrist.
12:37 P.M. I was late. I'm always late, it's nothing new. Even though I knew this, I didn't make an effort to not be late, even though I shouldn't be this time. The only reason why I was in terrible shape was because one, I'm, you know, not athletic at all, and two, the distance is far as hell. This was the one time I could make up for what happened. So that they.. wouldn't hate me. This was my only fucking chance, yet, I blew it. The meeting was at 12.
"Get..." despite trying my hardest to mumble something, it only came out as short breaths. "me there.. faster.." Stupid fucking legs.
Moments passed, as I waited for some sort of sign from someone as I slowed down and eventually stopped. I gritted my teeth, contemplating whether or not I should just leave and go back to my house or continue going. Then, it hit me. Literally, a newspaper hit the knee pad that hugged my knee tightly. How cliche, but it should've been a paper bag, I awkwardly joked to myself while I stared at the newspaper. Dumb joke. I brought it up, and placed it in a trash can, cause you know, streets need to be cleaned and stuff.
A strong breeze hit my face, calming down my heated body. I brought up my hands, realizing they no longer hurt. I smirked and mumbled under my breath, "He's here."
YOU ARE READING
Tainted
Mystery / ThrillerJin, a 14 year old, lives inside of an insane asylum. She's lived in boredom in this, and I quote, "shithole of a place," desperately trying to find something that would satisfy her urge of wanted excitement. She would often look towards others outs...
