Prologue

12 0 0
                                    

*Authors Note: Hi! Just a little note before you start reading, in this story Hayden is harry styles. I just don't use his actual name. I hope you enjoy!

I can't see anything in this darkness. This street doesn't have any lamps to light it. I keep on running anyway. I have no idea where my feet are taking me, but I keep running. My hands are dripping in hot blood against my cold skin, and I wipe the rest of it off my face. It stings, but I ignore it and keep on running.

Every store is closed. I didn't think anything would be open past 1 am. There's not a soul in sight. Dark ally's surround me, but I just focus on the dark road ahead of me. It's narrow and long, with cars lining the side of it. The buildings tower over me, and the only sound I hear is the sound of my shoes hitting the sidewalk over and over with my breathing faintly in the background. 

I honestly don't know where I am going, what my goal is or where my destination is, but I keep going anyway. These streets are unfamiliar to me, I probably look like a damn lost puppy. A puppy who has no clue to what is going on, devoured in the darkness and cannot escape it.

I slow down my pace as my breath slowly runs out. My feet hurt from running, but the freezing cold puddles on the ground allow a numb feeling. I look down at my hands. It's too damn dark to see anything, but I can tell they're still red from the blood that's not even mine.

Red and blue lights flash on the buildings around me. Fuck. I turn my head to look behind me, and they're here. They're coming. I look for an ally to sneak into, but I passed all of them already, and all I'm left with is locked store doors left vacant until morning. Fuck. There's no getting out of this. The street runs at least another two miles down, there's no possible way of me out running a damn police car.

I stop in my tracks. I close my eyes. The siren becomes louder and louder as they approach me. I'd be surprised if they don't fucking shoot me. It wouldn't be the first time. They stop abruptly next to me in the street, and scram out of the car to arrest me as they blow whistles that hurt my ear drums. I don't resist it. I learned that the hard way. I take a deep breath as they tighten metal cuffs around my wrists.

What is WrittenWhere stories live. Discover now