It's been a LONG while since I've uploaded a story here. But I got some serious nostalgia and started reading some of my favorite stories and i couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to write. So, I'll see how long this goes. Thanks!
12:30.
'Shit.'
I ran as fast as my feet could carry me, taking in small breaths to keep from getting tired. I was too close to give up now. My cream trench coat trailed behind me as I picked up the pace. I had almost managed to make it there but for some reason, I was always spotted at the worst possible moments. This was one of those.
"Stop! Or we will shoot." A voice rang out from behind me.
'Run faster. Move your legs Jazmine!'
But I collapsed, rolling over on my side into a nearby bush that was off the trail. I was engulfed in the leaves only to realize that there was a cliff right below me and I started tumbling. Hard.
"Dammit! This cannot be happening." I looked down to a gash in my upper left thigh, and a bruised wrist. The purple and green hues were coming in fast, engulfing the lower half of my right wrist and spreading. I brushed it off and pushed up on my two feet. Only that wasn't the best idea.
"ARGH." I let out a panicked scream as I fell back down on my back. The gash in my leg was worse than I thought, with the blood slowly creeping down my black jeans. I could see the cut beginning to worsen as I tried to relax my thigh, but I heard the guards running. I heard their boots hitting the pavement as they traced in the direction I had run. They were still behind me.
Digging my nails into the ground, I quickly made a slight groove in the cliff, slowly placing myself in without falling. I tried to keep breathing, but my body was going in and out of consciousness. The gash on my leg must have been worse than I thought. I tried to touch it, but the pain shot up through my entire body causing me to hunch over in pain. I couldn't move.
In seeing the lights flash above from the bush I had fallen through, I slowly lowered myself into the small groove, covering my mouth to keep me from crying out at the excruciating pain. I kept seeing stars and felt myself slowly lowering, as if I was slipping. I was terrified. I didn't want to die this way. I couldn't die this way.
"She's not here. If she fell over the cliff, she's probably dead by now. She probably died on impact. No point."
One of the guards continued to flash the light over the bushes. "Don't we want to just maybe see? You know he wants her dead and if we mess up and she's still alive, what do we tell Z?"
"We don't," the other guard explained, barely above a whisper. "We just keep this to ourselves. Tell him that she jumped over the edge, killing herself, and it was too dark to find her body so we will be back at day break to pick up the remains. Hopefully whatever else is out here doesn't get her before we do."
I shivered, the words sending a ping of fear through my spine. I didn't even know where I was, let alone what else was out here. I could die out here and no one would even know.
'Stop, okay? Just think. What is the best possible way to get out of this? Just breathe and numb through the pain. You've got to find a road. Something. You just need to let someone know you are out here.' I sat up, slowly scanning my surroundings. It was dark. Very dark. It was the kind of night sky where you just closed your eyes and waited for the morning to come because you were afraid of what might be hiding behind the shadows. But I didn't have time. I had to move. Now.
I tore off my trench coat, exposing my bare arms to the chilled air around me. Although I wasn't sure of the condition of my leg, I needed to be able to stop the bleeding. At least long enough for me to keep moving until I felt it safe. I peeled off my white tank top and gently yet firmly wrapped it around my leg. The cloth made contact with the wound, causing me to cringe in pain. I tried to suck in air as I tied it around my leg, but the feeling was almost unbearable. I grabbed my stomach, throwing up in the space next to me. Unsure of what happened next, my body felt heavy, my arms weak, and I fell back onto the warm earth.
My eyes began to waiver open and close, straining my already limited vision in the dark space. I felt it. Those hands grabbed underneath my neck.
I passed out.
'I NEED THE DOORS TO SHUT YOU OUUUUUT!' I belted out the notes so hard, I felt them in my bones. Cindy looked at me, laughing and continued to belt out the lyrics with me. We were on the way back from a night of drinks and laughter. Just us. The way it had always been. We continued to sing the lyrics as I turned the radio down.
'Cindy, you think it would ever be just us? That we would just be out here on our own, fending for ourselves? Does it ever scare you?" My voice dropped, and I just stared ahead at the road waiting on her response. She didn't look at me; instead she continued nodding her head to the now softer beat.
'It's never been anyone but us. This isn't new. From the time we left Woodcrest to now. It was just us. Always. And it always will be. No one will have our backs more than the other. Don't forget that.' She patted my arm as I focused on the road. She was right.
'Cindy, I just never thought it would come to this. But you're right. I'll always have your back.' As the words rolled out of my mouth, I looked over to see Cindy crying, her face in her hands. She was thinking about that night. I knew that pain. I felt it every night.
But what I didn't feel, didn't see, were the headlights coming at the passenger window.
Everything went black.
I jolted my eyes open and gasped for air, only to be brought back by the pain that shot instantly up my leg. It was real.
I stayed on my back, but the ground underneath me felt different. It felt softer and less intense and my body was heating up. I heard voices around me. So many different voices and they were all talking so fast. I couldn't comprehend what was being said because my mind was trying to adjust.
"We are unaware of the situationā¦bring her back here to us but she was goneā¦the search ends."
'Television,' I thought. 'But how is that even possible out here?'
And then I saw it. There was a white ceiling above me, with a wooden fan slowly rotating inches below it. The curtains covering the window softly drifted from the wind produced by the fan. It was chilly but it wasn't cold. And my body wasn't exposed anymore. Instead I looked down, only to notice I was covered in blankets and clothing. My mind woke up.
I shot up, ignoring the pain that continued to nag at me from my thigh. Looking around, I realized my hair was soaking wet, a slight smell of soap touching my nose. Did I escape? Was this a dream? I couldn't have possibly gotten anywhere last night, because I didn't remember getting off of my back after I collapsed the second time. Something was not right.
I threw my good leg over the bed, only to be greeted at someone standing at the door. I instantly became defensive.
"About time you woke up. It's 11:30. Who sleeps in that late?" He looked at me with a slight wonder in his eyes. Those big brown eyes. They just stared at me as if they were trying to pierce into my soul. It was working, until I took a look at my leg. It was braced up, wrapped in some type of cloth. I felt the pain again and grabbed my stomach as I lightly gagged.
"Can I ask why you of all people came after me? Out of all the people in the world, you had to be the one to find me. Thanks, but no thanks. I've got to go." I lightly argued, as I tried to stand up, only to be met with the bed behind me. My thigh was busted. And it was slowly beginning to sink in.
"If you find a way out of here, let me know. With that cut I'm surprised you're even able to stand the pain. The cut is pretty deep, to the muscle. I sanitized it as well as I could, wrapped and iced it for you, and gave you some meds. You were pretty doped up last night. Didn't know you still had it in you." His eyes were empty, but he was looking out the window, as if he was searching for answers through the glass.
"Uhm," my face began to warm, "can I ask what you mean by that?" I began to massage my temples, noticing the pain medication was wearing off. My thigh was really starting to pulse at a much faster rate. I swallowed trying not to show the pain.
"You never got over it, did you? That day they took me away; the day you watched them shackle me and drag me away. It still haunts you. And it still hurts you." He was now sitting in a desk chair, facing me, his hands slowly unwrapping the bandages on my legs. I looked at him, hoping to read him before I answered.
"What do you mean? When they dragged you away, I moved on with my life. I didn't care. You picked that life to live. I just kept getting caught in it. You leaving, no, being dragged out was my escape. I needed it. I needed to let you go. And I did. And I'm good now." I let out a sigh hoping he would drop it. He took the hint, changing the subject.
"Well, your thigh is pretty much busted."
'Great.'
"So you'll probably need to stay off of it to allow it to properly heal. I've left plenty of medicine on the dresser. Take what you need, and stay out of what you don't. Some of those drugs are pretty strong and I don't want you using them for instant relief. And whatever you do, don't move too much. Just try and keep it stationary. I'll be in my study downstairs. If you need anything, just yell my name." He kept his focus on my thigh, seeming to be studying the extent of my injury. He seemed so focused on it that the telephone ringing shook him out of his daze. He quickly wrapped my thigh back up, and answered the phone.
I pushed myself back onto the bed as I heard his voice creep through the hallway. He seemed to be making an important call, so I just lied back, looking around the room. My jacket was draped over the bed post, along with my now ripped jeans and white tank. I winced at the blood that was still evident on my clothes.
I gazed over at the nightstand to the items that were in my jacket pocket. They were neatly placed, and everything seemed to be there. My cell phone was busted, but the images still burned in my head.
'Please! Please! Don't go. You're supposed to have my back.'
I shook the images away, and opened the nightstand drawer, seeing a notepad, pens and pencils, and a folded up picture. I could tell it was pretty old, because the handwriting on the back was faded. But I could make out the words.
'Never letting go. J.D.'
I opened the picture and my body tensed. It was us. Just the two of us, my strawberry blonde curls flowing in the direction of the wind, and his afro slightly bouncing along. We looked so happy. He looked happy. I looked happy. Everything looked happy. I continued to stare at the picture, tears slowly starting up in my eyes. The white gown becoming a blur and the scenery in the photo becoming fuzzy. I couldn't believe it. After all this time, he never let go.
