Unique

The Ballroom

I ran the same path every time I went for a run.

Start at my apartment, run by the police station, then the fire station, through Caramel park and back.

It kept me in high traffic areas and kept me in the safe neighborhoods.

Just in case.

Running always helped clear my head.

Anxious? Go for a run.

Angry? Go for a run.

Craving a cigarette or a drink? Go for a run.

I've been in Whole Cake for about three months, but I honestly didn't know anything about the town minus the closest grocery store, the cafe I worked at, the clinic I volunteered at and this running path.

I didn't feel comfortable venturing anywhere new alone.

My therapist told me it is important to push yourself after a traumatic event within reason.

Running alone in a big city during broad daylight on safe streets was about as much as I could push myself right now.

As my black Nike's pounded down the sidewalk I take in deep, mildly labored breathes, inhaling the potent smell of my sunblock as I did so.

Even with the dreary grey clouds blanketing the sky, I still had to drench myself in sunblock to not burn with my ivory skin.

I would usually just cover up but it was 75, muggy and I was already regretting wearing leggings out on my run.

As I made my descent down Cacao Avenue, my work out playlist stopped dead in the middle of the chorus of 'Eye of the Tiger.'

I crease my brows and slow to a walk, the invigorating ache of my muscles instantly setting in.

I pull my iPhone out of a mesh pocket of my lilac leggings. Dead battery.

A sigh escapes my lip.

I must have forgotten to plug it in after talking with my dad last night. He wanted to know if I would be attending college in the fall or continue just working.

It was a good question that I didn't have the answer for and lost sleep over last night and why I was groggy enough this morning to not realize my phone had barely any battery.

I decide I didn't need music to finish my run so I slip my Bluetooth headphones into my free pocket.

When I was about to pick up the pace again, a warm drop of water hits my bare shoulder refreshing my sweaty skin.

I tilt my head toward the sky out of curiosity; fat rain drops fall onto the thick lenses of my glasses warping the sky into an abstract swirls of grays.

Then in one of mother nature's mood swings, it started to furiously downpour.

In seconds, I was drenched from head to toe.

I frantically rush into the first building I see open to escape the relentless pelting.

I was greeted by the welcoming chill of air conditioning that made goosebumps explode over my sticky skin.

The twin buns I had in my hair tied into hung low and heavy on my shoulders, tugging at my scalp.

My white tank top clung to my body wet and uncomfortable.

I did my best to wipe my lenses on my shirt, only really achieving about a warped 50 percent of my visual field.

I sigh mildly annoyed I couldn't see.  Plus, I was 99% sure I smelt like a wet dog too.