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I can’t sleep.
After Cayden all but ran from my house in fear of me asking more questions, I’ve been left restless and wondering if he’s Jekyll and Hyde reincarnate. I’m constantly left with more questions when in his company, which just leaves me even more intrigued by him.
If my day wasn’t bad enough, Stella decided to add to the shit pile and call me. The conversation was short, but she was clearly checking up on me. She asked if I’d gotten over whatever this phase was and if I was ready to come home.
Her disregard for my feelings had me digging in my heels even more so, and I told her I wouldn’t be offended if she didn’t call me again.
Left agitated, I made good on my word and scrubbed the kitchen until it was sparkling clean. I only stopped because I ran out of cleaning products. I was hoping to clean myself into exhaustion, but no such luck. Which is why I’m tying my laces and placing my earbuds in.
Going for a run at two o’clock in the morning is surely the solution to force my body to switch off and give in to my fatigue. I select a rock song as I do some light stretching. Once I’m warmed up, I take off, hoping to sweat out this restlessness brewing within.
I enjoy the stillness as it appears I’m the only one awake at this ungodly hour. The gentle glow from the streetlights illuminates the sidewalk, and I allow the peacefulness in. There is a sense of liberation when my feet hit the pavement. Letting go has never felt this good.
Today has been a whirlwind, but I have a feeling this is just the beginning of things to come. With that as my motivation, I break into a faster pace, intent on running away from these demons constantly nipping at my heels.
I’ve only been here two days, and things are already challenging me in ways I never imagined. But more accurately, someone. I never expected to meet someone like Cayden. I actually wouldn’t have imagined someone like him existed. Back in Myrtle Beach, I felt somewhat in control even though my life was frustrating. But now, everything is rampant.
I have no control over my reaction toward him, and I don’t like it.
I push myself harder, refusing to lay victim to these irrational thoughts. He is just a man, an annoying man at that, but I need to remind myself why I’m here. Cayden Coachman is a complication I don’t need. I have enough.
Not focusing on where I’m running, I turn right and realize I’ve reached a dead-end street. There are trees and bushes a few yards away, which no doubt contains a trail leading to the other side of the lake. I could run it and discover what’s there, but the streetlights end abruptly, shrouding me in partial darkness.
Coming to a stop, I examine the scenery in front of me, wondering what it looks like in the daytime. Because right now, it looks creepy as hell. The shadows appear menacing, and my imagination runs wild. Just as one song ends and there is a split second of silence, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I snap my head to the left, certain I heard a branch crack in the distance.
Taking out my earbuds, I listen closely.
The rustle of the wind has me yelping, setting the stage for how every horror movie starts. I strain my eyes, attempting to make sense of the shadow that I’m certain looks like a person hidden among the dense foliage. I hold my breath as I make out their shape until the greenery shifts, and my imaginary creature turns into a tree.
Laughing to myself, I shake away such nonsense and decide to run back home. But as I reinsert my earbuds, I ignore the sudden feeling that I’m no longer alone. I have real monsters to deal with. There isn’t any room left for the imaginary kind.
But as I turn on my heel, I can’t help but notice that the journey back home is a lot quicker than when I began.
