The tile felt cold on her feet. Hard and unforgiving, but she hardly gave it much thought. The room seems to spin around her, but she keeps running, her head turning left and right, her hair slapping her in the face, only the sound of her heavy footsteps rang throughout, until she overheard laughter from a room.
She halted to a stop and feel eyes on her, but that is not her priority. Her pupils swings up, down and around, looking for an opening and her eyes landed on the window. A glance at the clock on the wall tells her she have another two minute.
"Hey, you're not allowed here." A voice said. She did not reply.
"Miss, this is a guy's dorm, what are you doing here," said another voice.
She fumbled on the door lock frantically and the only sound from the then merry room is now her heavy breathing and the lock clicking into place.
"Close the window," she muttered, more to herself than to be heard, her voice barely a whisper. She cannot hear anything happening around her. Not the shuffling of pairs of feet, not the hesitated whisper. A static noise filled her head and one thought remain: close the window.
Around her, six fully grown men stood dumbfounded, their expression almost hysterical.
"Hey, uh, missy, can you hear me?" One guy tried to reason with her, the air of uncertainty is thick in the room. What a contrast to the previously lively mood.
Her calloused fingers busied itself with the lock on the window. Her mutterings of, 'close the window, close the window, close it, close it,' can be heard in the too silent room. One guy speak up, this one have a determined glint in his eyes.
"I think that's enough, you need to lea—"
Her small fingers were inches away from the last lock when a strong gust of wind throw her off of her feet, along with everyone in the room. Several voices can be heard all at once.
"What the!"
"What was that?!"
"How's the wind—?"
Confusion is apparent in their voice, but it was nothing compared to the look on their face when a foreign voice echoed in the room.
YOU CANNOT HIDE. I ALWAYS KNOW.
Was what was heard. It bounced off the small room, layered, metal against metal. The voice seems to envelop the room.
Several things happen at the same time. One, the small space experience a slight cyclone. Two, all six men have trouble keeping their eyes open as debris is flying around. And three, the unknown girl have her right hand outstretched in front of her in hope of stopping the voice, in her crouching position, her other hand covering her left ear. Her eyes are shut tightly, as if it can make it untrue if she cannot see what is happening around her.
"Who's th—"
"NO! IT'S NOT ME! YOU'RE MISTAKEN!" Her shrill voice is quivering.
She is panicking. That much is obvious. Everyone is thinking the same thoughts, mistaken about what?
YOUR HIDING IS FUTILE IN THE END.
Just like that, the strange whirlwind died down. It was eerily quiet. The girl stood abruptly, startling two guys nearest to her.
"It's not me, it's not me, not me," she announced to the room.
"We didn't kno—"
"No! Not me, I said, it's not! Not me, not me, no—"
Her exclamation was cut short as she felt the ground escape her. The last thing she remembered is floating and a smooth voice saying, 'we must help her.'
YOU ARE READING
// Colours.
Short Story"Taira. Taira, listen to me. You can't just took something that isn't yours, especially from nature. Especially not while an unknown girl is watching you." "...Why not?" "Taira, there's only one explanation for your sudden color blindness: you're...
