I would really quick like to give a shoutout to @BoringDaisies for creating this AMAZING cover! Thank you so so so much for making it! I seriously love it! I love you!!
*Also you should go follow her! She has some amazing stories to share with you all*
The sound of the rocky and uneven concrete underneath my feet is the only thing that is keeping my head straight. The only thing that constantly reminds me that I am moving. I'm breathing. I don't know where I am, I don't know where to go, I'm completely lost, in every sense of the word. I don't know whether the water on my face is from the pouring rain, or my tears. In either case, I was away. And I was never going back.
My feet were so numb from the cold that I barely even noticed that I wasn't wearing socks or shoes. All I had on were a pair of jean shorts and a blue tank top. I don't know where my jacket went. For all I know, it could be back at my house, or it could be in any of the other places I have been since I "left" my house. I can't even remember the last time I changed clothes.
The rain was pouring on me like sharp blades. Each one stabbing into my skin with enough force that enough of them could cause a significant amount of pain. This is the closest thing I have had to a shower for what felt like weeks. Though I'm glad for the wash, my entire body was cold and blue, matching the color of my shirt. I had my arms wrapped around me to conserve all the body heat I had left. It wasn't that much help.
I had been running away from that dreadful place for so long that I have no idea where I am, what town I'm in, the day of the week, or even the time. But due to the sun setting, I could tell it was rather late. I don't know what I looked like. If my hair dye washed out, or if my contacts were even in. I don't know anything except my name. My name. But even that was taken away from me long before any of this happened. It used to be the one thing I counted on through all of this terror and dread.
But now I can't even label myself correctly. I disguise myself to hide from everyone, so no one could ever know me. Because if everyone knew who I was, then everyone would be afraid. Cowering at what I am, what I was. What I am going to be. Yet I cannot think about those things right now. I have to think about my next move, where I am going to go, what I am going to do.
I can never stop running, ever. Even if my legs were burning, even if my lungs gave out and collapsed in on themselves, if my ribs started breaking apart, if my heart stops beating. I will keep running. I can't stop. If I do, he'll find me and I can never let that happen. Not again. Not ever. He hurt and I hurt and I can never do that again. I regret and I cry, I hope and I pray, I run and I run until I drop dead. That's the only way this will ever stop, is when I'm dead.
But I'm too scared to die, I'm such a coward that I will put everyone around me in danger instead of giving in to the torture. I would rather have someone else get hurt before I die. I am selfish and I am cruel, I am brutal and I am callus. I have done things I wish I could regret, but I can't. I don't. I'm too cold-hearted and frightened that I will be next and I will do almost anything to survive another day.
I stare at my feet. Numb and broken. There's blood on the edges of my feet and I'm guessing it's from walking on this sidewalk for far too long. Rocks and other things have gotten stuck underneath and I don't have to motivation to stop and pick them out. Cars drive by every once in a while but no one can really see me with this heavy downpour. I blend in with my surroundings of the sidewalk and mailboxes. I would've loved this neighborhood if it weren't for the fact that I had to keep moving. I could only stare at the hazy outlines of the houses. Each one slightly different from the rest.
YOU ARE READING
Lock and Key
Teen FictionAndrea has been running for years. She is always quiet and looked away, afraid. She has an obscure past that should stay in the past. She needed to stay away from everyone. She thought she was protecting everybody. Ryder could always figure out some...