So I've been wanting to write a story like this for a long time, but just never had the time to. I don't know how updates are going to be for this story because I'm trying to catch up on my other stories I've been rewriting. I believe I've grown as a writer and I only want the best for my readers so bear with me while I get situated back into this. For now this is just an idea I had and I'm just gonna see how it goes.
Halle's P.O.V.
Run. A verb, to move with your legs at a speed that is faster than walking. It's been drilled into my head ever since I could remember, which isn't much. I couldn't remember anything before the age of 6.
It's how it's always been, it was a nagging feeling that I eventually got used to. Not knowing who your family is, if you had friends or anyone to miss you, or even acknowledge your absence. But back to the running I was currently doing for the sixth time today.
I don't know why they're after me, but every time I think I'm safe, there they are. Reminding me that no matter how hard or far I run, I'll never be safe.
I made that mistake once before. I had been found in an alley by a couple, their pity is what would lead them to their unfortunate demise. Robert and Denise had been their names. They had brought me into their home, nursed me back to health, and gave me a sense of belonging.
It was the first time in my life where I could actually understand what the term 'family' meant. It had been about 5 months that I had been with them. I had been going to school, making friends, trying to salvage what little childhood I could. It had finally begun to feel normal.
That was stolen from me when one day after returning home from school I saw the door was opened slightly, which was strange since Robert makes it a point to always lock the door when he enters and leaves the house. As I made my way inside a sinking feeling had been eating away at me since I set foot in the normally welcoming house, I had wanted to do nothing more than hide. I called out to them both, now calling them father and mother.
As I had been walking, there had been a foul smell that I knew all too well. When I entered the living room, I was not greeted by my father's smiling face, but blood. Every where and anywhere. In the center of the room laid the only family I had ever known, dead, but their eyes still wide with fear.
I spent hours there, just standing and staring, until one of the neighbors came over with a casserole.
The same casserole that had landed at my feet when her blood curdling scream made it's way into my ear drums. She had called the police of course, but by the time they had arrived, I was gone.
No one in that town heard from me or saw me ever again. I remember packing my bags as quickly as I could in fear of another orphanage, but discovering a note on my bed.
"My Dearest Halle,
No matter where you are or how far you try to run from me, I will find you. I will always find you.
Yours Always,
M.U. xx "
That was the first time they had ever contacted me, I was 8 at the time. Now 13 I still had no idea who or what M.U. was nor did I ever want to find out. But as always luck isn't on my side.