Safe Harbor

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"Stand up for something, or else you'll fall for anything." - Anonymous

I ran the way a madman would run, ignoring the curious looks I recieved along the way. My breath came out raggedly and I could feel the blood pump to my legs with each aching splash I made as I waded through various puddles, trying to run harder.

It had started raining as school let out, just to spite me, it seemed. Raindrops pelted my head as my worn-down shoes slapped the wet concrete with increasing ferver. All around me, shops and buildings became a blur of color as I swept past, shouting out apologies to anyone that would hear them.

"Where are you going, Blake?" A taunting voice arose from the fray, chilling me to the very core for the slightest of moments. "Heavens, you're a horrible runner!"

I heard exhilarant laughter from behind me. Adrenaline coursed through my body as sweat began to pool on my forehead, but I ignored it. I splashed my way through an especially deep puddle and felt tiny pebbles and dirt begin to work their way into my already beat-up shoes. Frustratedly, I sighed; Mum was going to have my head for this.

It was a crisp September afternoon in Bournemouth; the third town I'd lived in this year alone. It was your typical large, English town located on the southern coast. It was a thriving coastal region, nestled strategically close to the English Channel. We'd been here for a surprising 6 months tomorrow, a new record.

My body screamed with fatigue as I passed St. Stephen's Church, marking my arrival in the town centre. I pushed myself on with frantic urgency, a mixture of fear, anger, and determination fueling my energy. I knew what would happen if they caught me again.

I passed Grimley's tavern and crossed the street, allowing myself to slow down just the slightest bit. I was almost home; almost in safe territory. Wind whipped around me, tousling my tawny brown hair and fighting with my school uniform. The sky was beginning to get dark, marking the onslaught of evening. As if agreeing with me, the street lamps flickered on, illuminating my lean figure as I passed underneath. I ran down the street the speed of a lion, certain I was home free. I laughed in amazement at my small victory; the first out of many.

Until I tripped.

I fell face first into the rough, chipped asphalt. Immediately, my hands went out underneath me to break my fall, and I hissed quietly as they met the ground, causing my bones to vibrate painfully. Everything hurt, but somehow, I managed to get myself into a sitting position, trying to ignore the pounding in my head. Shakily, I stood, trying to get my bearings. I could see my house, only minutes away. Hastily, I brushed the dirt and grime off my clothes with another wince. If I thought I was dead before, wait until Mum sees this.

A loud victorious whoop came from behind me, startling me back into reality. I ignored the pain in my head and tried to run, but my legs refused to cooperate. Hopelessly, I started limping away as fast as I could, to no avail. They were gaining on me.

"That looks like it hurts, Blake," the same taunting voice from before began. "Need your Mummy to kiss it alright?" He teased, snickering with his friends.

As if, I want to mutter in response. The last time Mum showed me any affection was when I was a baby. Instead I muster up all the courage I have inside of me and turn around to face him, putting on what I hoped was a brave face, even though inside I was anything but. "What business do you have with me, Richard?"

Richard Ericson was more than a schoolyard bully. He was the eldest son of Mayor Ericson; the richest and most prestigious man in these parts. He flaunted that fact and used it to get what he wanted. Richard was short, small, and seemingly insignificant at first glance, but there was no hiding the violence and anger underneath. He and his cronies wreaked havoc like no others, most especially at school, where they were in Upper Sixth form; their last year before university. His name alone was enough to intimidate even adults.