Catharsis [Novel]

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER TEN

            As an experiment, I increase my speed to see if that will trip an internal governor, but my body adjusts to it easily.  Running has become no problem at all for me.

            It’s not a problem, except for the small issue of lights and passing vehicles.  Those are still awful. 

            I do my best to dodge the burning white halos of the streetlamps when I encounter them, and the empty streets facilitate this as I weave my way from one dark spot on the street to another.  My leaps go further than expected which makes traversing the illuminated donuts thrown by the lamps even easier.          

Vehicular headlamps are not as simple.  The few cars that I encounter on my trip are more difficult to evade as their light fills the entire street.  Several times I duck into an empty side road or doorway as I hear one approaching, and then I just have to wait until they pass.  A few times I'm caught midblock with no easy retreat, and I have to stop and turn my back to the vehicle and shield my eyes to keep the piercing pain from crippling me.

            I'm sure I look suspicious to anyone who sees me.  A short, dark-skinned girl in jeans and a t-shirt hiding her face whenever a car rumbles past?  Nope.  No reason for the police to suspect me of anything.  Especially with a blood soaked blouse crammed into the back of my pants, and a stolen mobile phone in my front pocket.  

            Remembering my previous plan to ditch it, I pause at the next alley and step in to pull out the phone.  I had meant to pitch it in the canal earlier, but I had been distracted with running and spaced it .  The same number has called five more times since I started my journey tonight.  I consider smashing the phone into Lego-sized pieces and throwing it into the nearest sewer drain. 

I'm only a few blocks from my neighborhood now, and I'm running out of places to ditch it.  I don't want to take it home and have to worry about hiding it, but smashing it feels arbitrary and mean.  As long as I wipe the phone clean of prints, then there's nothing to tie it to me.  I might as well return it to the owner and do a good deed (Even if he was directly involved in a misguided attempt to stab me.).  It’s a small act that won’t cleanse my conscious of whatever happened tonight, but it might help me sleep later.

            After peeking out of the alley to check for the closest street names, I flip through the phone’s menus to find its text messaging function.  I text the number that keeps calling and let them know the phone will be under a trashcan in the alley.  I wipe the phone with my shirt multiple times (just to be safe) and scoot it under the red dumpster.

            With that problem solved, I move on to figuring out how to get into my room without my parents killing me.  My dad will be waiting in the family room for me, and I'll have to confront him and try to explain things that I’m not sure I even understand yet.  Not relishing that discussion, I decide to see if my newfound athleticism might prove more helpful in problem solving the issue.

            I’m getting hungry, I realize.  Distractingly hungry.  All this running is taking a toll on my system (I’ve run more than eight or nine miles so far.).  I need to replenish some energy.  And soon.   Thoughts of leftover Chinese food from last night’s dinner motivate me to move a little faster.

            Reaching my neighborhood within minutes, I walk slowly towards our family's run-down two-story house.  Our street is mercifully dark with only a handful of easily avoidable streetlamps (This extreme light sensitivity issue is getting old.  Fast.), but that darkness has allowed me to see that our front room's light is on before I’ve gotten too close.  Out of desperation, I move to the back where my bedroom overlooks the retention pond.