VALERIE

Chapter 26.9: Homerun

Copyright © @zylgnagnaba 2013

VALERIE’s POV

I’ve ran the fastest my boots could carry me to the safest place I could be, away and far from the furious and hormonal teenagers chasing after me. Who knew those two girls from the bookstore could quickly rise up an army to apprehend me? And who knows what these girls are capable of doing after they catch me?

My thoughts are vacant as I continue to run for my life. The only thing that matters to me is to escape this madness I didn’t know would exist until now. I knew Harry’s fans could be quite obnoxious, but never once it occurred to me that I’d be scared to be killed by girls with such a number wanting so badly to attack me.

My pace is quick, leaping to alternate direction to avoid bumping to any people walking the opposite direction I am taking. I can hear those girls’ quick continuous stomps to the gravel behind me screaming, threatening to hurt me once they are able to lay their hands on me—cursing and calling names. Truth be told, I am really scared and I can feel the shivers from my limbs as I continue to run. I turn my head back to glance behind me quickly, making sure that they aren’t catching up to me. I am nearly satisfied that they are meters and meters away from me still, but I am still petrified for my life.

I still hear the loud shrill cries of the girls behind me while I quickly turn to the left side of the street, hoping to find a hiding place at any building that’s lined up on the side of the road. Quickly glancing over my shoulder, I see no sign yet of the girls chasing me but their steps and screams are audible, so without any hesitation I run inside a thrift shop. When I rush inside, the guy behind the counter and the only two customers inside look inquisitively at the way I pull off such an entrance.

I gasp for air, panting relentlessly and I clasp my hand on my knees. When I stand up to my full height, the guy behind the counter’s expression grows more quizzical. I am well aware that I am cringing as I take in sharp breaths, my chest heaving up and down. I prop one hand on my waist and the other on my throbbing stomach. I can associate the aching to the running for almost half an hour.

I haven’t even survived running for good five minutes with Harry when we were in Cheshire. Surprisingly, I did it today quite amusingly, for half an hour for heaven’s sake. I guess anyone who’d be put in my shoes would be able to do this too.

“Help.” I tell the guy—around my age and strikingly good-looking—behind the counter through a heavy breath. Glancing at the name on his left chest, I find out his name is Norman. “Norman, help me please,” I look out the glass door of the shop, hoping not to see the bloodcurdling sight of the group of girls that might attack me. I continue to pant as I put my hand on my chest, my heart beating faster and louder than its usual rate. I look at him again with a weary smile. How come he never moved even an inch since I asked him for help?

Looking at him, I know he is startled at my frantic appearance. He doesn’t expect to see a customer such as me in their remote shop with only few customers are enticed to look around.

“Look,” I wave my hand towards the door where I come from. “There are girls—God knows how many they are. But they are chasing after me. They want to kill me.” At my last few words, Norman widens his eyes and he immediately rises up from his position. He runs around the counter to my direction and quickly grabs me by the wrist.

“Here, Ma’am. Hide at the office.” Normally, I would flinch from some strange person grabbing me by my wrist. But today, I’m really relieved that someone is trying to help me. He ushered me to the back of the shop, the smell is awful but it’s nothing I couldn’t handle. Once we reach a white painted door, Norman opens it and he comes in before me.