Run

1

Eden had more than one reason to run this time. Her arms pumped wildly and she sprinted, her hood thrown over her face and a beanie low over her eyes. She couldn't really see past the white streaks smudging across her vision from the tough wind, but it was enough. Her chest juddered as she heaved for breath, hoping she was fast enough. She didn't have long till they caught up to her.

She'd just killed someone.

Eden's frame shuddered from the shaky breath at the realisation. She could practically feel the blood on her hands. No, she could- it was sliding down her arms and forming rivulets around her fingers, congealing under her nails. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore her vivid thoughts of how the blood had got to be on her hands. It would do her good to focus on running for the time being.

Eden took the sharp turn into an alley. She wasn't paying attention to where she was, but it was at least a mile from her small village. Crouching against a moss stained wall, she began to sob. She hadn't meant to kill her stepfather. She hadn't, she swore. But he was going to hit her again with the belt or maybe throw a bottle and she didn't want him to and he reached out and- she stopped the train of thought as quickly as she started it. She sucked in a breath, and slapped herself hard across the arm, where the mark wouldn't be seen under her clothes. Steeling herself, she stood up, head held high, but not too high. She'd been on the run before. Overconfidence was far too dangerous to risk. She took firm steps out the alley, steps that dwindled when she saw the thing she was avoiding- the police. It was just her luck that the place she had run to had the thing she was running from. Ironic, she recalled. She swerved around to the next street, mentally praying that nobody looked towards her tall frame. London was a busy place on a Monday, but she imagined it was just as busy every other day anyway. The pace she was at, especially, being a shopping centre, drew attention, so she slowed, scared horribly of being exposed. 

The people around her served as good cover, and her lanky body slunk around to a large area of land full of shops and packed to the brim with people. Eden was incredibly uncomfortable with all the sweaty, hurried people pressing against her, but she persevered, stopping to take small, patient sips from a water fountain. If she drank to fast, she was bound start coughing and then the blood would be noticed. She scrubbed said blood off the best she could, but dried chunks still stuck to her. Eden walked forwards again, flipping the hood off her head, she pulled the beanie away and unleashed her swirl of angry electric blue curls. They had been her redeeming quality before her stepfather had come at her with a boxing knife and cut a chunk out of the bottom. It had been obviously wonky, So she had sheered the waist length down to where the chunk was missing, at her elbow.  

She knew the beautiful curls were very conspicuous; she would purchase bleach as soon as she could to hide the brightly dyed strands. She'd even cut it to her shoulders before so she could give the blue hair to charity. But for the time being, she walked around like she owned the place before exiting, having pick-pocketed several wallets and even a shiny ring that had been in a pocket. She found herself in a jumble of people and clothes shops and began to feel her chest pressing in on itself. It was the same pressure she got when her asthma went off, but this was different. She thought it was a panic attack, but she wasn't so sure. Black spots danced in the corner of her eyes and the reality of the situation hit her. She hadn't noticed how screwed she was until that moment. Hunched over in the space between a Lush and a Topshop, she had a panic attack at the reality of her new fate.

She had killed someone.