The Boy with Blue hair

I'm Secretly a Parkour Master. Don't Tell Anyone!

Never in my life, I thought I would be chasing a stranger to the outer edge of town. Firstly, cause we all know the infamous stranger danger saying. Secondly, I don’t know them, so logically I shouldn’t care that they're running---away from me. I mean, I still have blood on my face. Last time I checked, that's not the best way of getting someone's attention or affection. “Yes, trust me, as I have blood dripping down my face.” Might as well say this cute celestial theme just went horror-ibly wrong.

I had too, there was no way I couldn’t resist. 

Finally, they’re a random customer who happened to watch a single fish tank for an entire day. (After a breathtaking meteor shower). They shouldn’t be taking up this much mental and physical space in my life. I’m literally in a full sprint trying to keep up with them.

I can’t push him to the side. I can’t say “let him go”. I can’t stand around and do nothing. That’s the odd part. Brushing minor events and happenings is my specialty. I dwell in the pain and the agony then move on. Not entirely healing mind you, but enough that I’m not crawling on all fours in the dirt and grim of my life. I’m bruised and battered, but I’m walking.

I stand up and keep looking. I keep my head up. I have too or I’ll collapse into that darkness, those lingering shadows. Those nagging thoughts that always assume the worst in any situation. I am not my mother.

I am not my mother. 

So why am I chasing this blue-haired boy across town? Something in my gut says to follow him. I’m positive. I can’t be wrong, not this time. A lot of crap has happened to me in the past few months and he is the only certainty I feel confident about.  

All I can say is, he is ridiculously fast. There is no way I can catch up with him, but I can try to take the backways instead of following the main road. I slide behind rows of trash cans, wiggle through narrow alleyways, climb up and over fire escapes. I don’t reach the thrill of jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Though, that does sound exhilarating at the moment. Totally dramatic. Like a scene of an action movie. Absolutely cliche, but nonetheless, awesome to watch.

But reality whams me in the face with a broken down ATM machine. Thankfully it’s an empty, plastic shell so it absorbs most of my impact, but that doesn’t mean it leaves me slightly limping. My vision lags as I wobble side to side. Once the city life is no longer in multiples, I find my footing and keep dashing in his direction.

The cool temperature starts to drop as we get closer to the river. I don’t see him on the bridge, which gives me hope. Even if it’s the smallest sliver. I cut across a road to see the walking sign turn into the ominous red hand. 

You have to be kidding me!

The irrational part screams: JUST RUN, YOU IDIOT! THE CARS WILL STOP AND BLARE THEIR HORNS AT YOU BUT THAT’S ALL!

While the more reasonable part softly says with their hands folded: you are obeying the law and not rushing into traffic. That is a wise choice. Good job.

I jog in place as my heated breath decides to rise into the night on a silver cloud. My arms pump at my sides. Staying warm and keeping my energy level stable. I have to get there first!

I have to stop him.

Sure, plummeting into icy cold water to his death may not be his motive, but just in case it is, I’m going to stop him. I have too. No one should dance with death. No one should toy with their life like that. Every life on this Earth holds significance. Even his. Even mine. 

A flash of that breathtaking blue hits the emerging buildings. His head bobs up and down, traveling farther and farther away from me.

I know I’m grasping air thinking I can save him, but I know those eyes. Drowned in fear of uncertainties. Someone who has gone through more than they could handle. Something they never wanted to deal with in the first place. It was forced upon them. I know that situation all too well.