The girl flew over the cracked pavement, away from her home. Her dark eyes were swimming with tears, disorienting her vision. All she saw was a blur as she ran faster down the wet street she had wandered for so long.
She didn't want to be at home, where her razor lay, calling her name. She didn't want to be near the laptop, where her email inbox awaited, flooded with curses and names. She didn't want to be near her cracked old phone, filled with threatening messages from unknown numbers.
No.
She needed to be somewhere else.
The girl didn't know where she was going, where her feet were leading her.
Left once, right once, left twice, right.
And then she arrived at the pearly white gates, coated with the shining raindrops of the rain shower. She blinked hard, knowing immediately she was at the right place.
The cemetery.
The home of the dead.
