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I should have packed an emergency bag already. I used to. Why didn’t I? How could I forget my own survival guide?
With my elbow to his side, I shove him out of the way and run, sneaker-clad feet pounding against the rug. I skid around the banister of the stairs and throw myself down them.
“MALLORY!” he bellows after me as I reach the front door. “MALLORY, WA—”
I leave the door wide open and don’t look back. I run and run with no destination in mind, no money in my pockets, no phone.
Why didn’t I pack an emergency bag?
FUCK.
Why are they all the same? Why did he make me do that?
The skies open and cry on me as my stamina starts to wear thin.
I run past houses and houses and trees and cars. It all looks the fucking same.
When a cop car turns the corner in the distance, I duck into the yard of a large house and hide behind the low wall until it has passed.
I have a feeling I am who they’re looking for.
I keep going until I hit a grocery store well-lit and full of people waiting out the heavy shower, some shopping, some just goofing around.
There’s no way I’m going in there, so I rush around the back. My lungs and chest are burning so badly, my thighs ache but I don’t stop until I reach another street full of stores. I used to have way more stamina than this but I haven’t done any running or climbing in so long. I recognize a store from today and keep my head low and my hood up as I pass the clothing place that has shut already. Most of the stores have shut already.
With shaking arms and weak legs, I find an alleyway that cuts between and behind them but it’s protected by a locked gate. I could climb over but there are spikes on the top and I don’t want to risk it with how wet it is. Instead I squeeze under it, grateful that my breasts aren’t ridiculously large, though my ass takes a bit of shimmying to get through.
My clothes are drenched and filthy when I stand and, unfortunately, as I’m brushing myself off in the mouth of the alley, another cop car goes by and slows to shine a light directly on me.
We stare at each other, him with raised brows, me with wide eyes.
“STOP!” he booms at me, but of course I’m not about to do what he says, so I take off.
My hiding place is no longer a decent hiding place.
He turns on his sirens, alerting everyone else to where I’m at. I look up and down the alleyway knowing that there’s no leaving either end without getting caught.
“I guess the only way is up,” I murmur, and stretch my body quickly.
It protests but it doesn’t let me down as I climb the walls, using my entire body, legs, and arms to rise higher up the narrow-ish gap.
“What the fuck is she? Spiderman?” the cop guffaws as I reach the halfway point. “Come on, kid, get down, we just want to talk. You’re not in trouble.”
Not in trouble… HA. That’s what they all say.
More like send me back to the institution. Not a chance.
The gate is unlocked by a store owner but I’m already clinging on to the roof which is slippery as fuck. Still, I manage to pull myself over the top and lie flat on the hard, unforgiving slate for a moment to catch my breath.
I only allow myself thirty seconds because I imagine there’s a fire escape that they can use to get up here somewhere on the building. Not that they’d follow, but I’m not taking my chances. There’s no way I’m going back there.
Backing up a few steps, I take a running leap over the alley to the clothing store side and keep going. Jumping across each narrow gap that separates the stores.
When I’m confident they aren’t sure of my whereabouts, I climb down a drain, almost completely spent, and then I start running again.
I’m so tired. I can’t keep going like this. I’ve wasted too much energy in my panic by not breathing properly and not moving my body the way I’ve trained myself. I’ve been sloppy.
I see more houses and a bowling alley in the distance, a big building, and I figure it might have a dumpster I can hide in.
The rain stops, which is a relief, but then also not because more people will come outside now. More witnesses. More people to identify me and tell the cops where I am.
“FUCK!” I yell when a cop car comes up my rear, far too fast for me to outrun.
I scale a fence, gripping it and propelling my body over the top.
I land slightly wrong and my knee buckles, making me cry out when pain radiates up my leg. I half hop, half run to the bowling alley but I know I’m done.
