Inspired by Runaway by AURORA108Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrmQxR6RzJw
108Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡffpVwZ6GRs
She stood on the beach, the wind blowing fiercely and blowing her hair around crazily. The waves roared, crashed and rumbled ominously, the dark clouds laying over the ocean. She looked down into the golden sand, her feet covered in the small rocks. Her skirt was long and light, the dark blue color matching the roaring waves. It blew around her ankles and her bare feet, her white blouse blowing in the wind as well. Her blond hair covered her head, blocking her peripheral vision. She looked up, just slightly, so she could see the sand and the waves.
A calming sensation covered her, all of the tension in her body disappearing momentarily. She closed her eyes for a short moment, then reopened them. She stared at the sand, a face forming and expanding out of the sand. She moved back, startled,then bent down. She cupped her hands and scooped up the face, yet the sand fell through her fingers like a strainer, blowing away in the wind and towards the ocean. She tumbled backwards, falling into the sand, her eyelids fluttering as she lost consciousness..
A little girl, about seven years old, was running through the forest, her white sundress going just below her knees. Her knees were beaten and bruised, her feet bare. She grabbed a branch of a tree, beginning to climb. She got covered in splinters as she climbed and climbed, the tree seemingly growing and growing faster than she can climb. She climbed and climbed, seemingly forever, until she finally broke free of the branches and leaves, standing as tall as she could and viewing the forest. The clouds were fluffy and white, reaching out to her, and her reaching back. She tried to run to them, run to the clouds and grab onto their hand, but she fell, the long drop getting longer and longer as she fell further and further. Still the clouds reached out, waiting for her, patiently, until she can one day reach them.
She landed on the ground, standing on her feet. She began running. Running through the forest, fast as she can, ignoring the pain of the fall and the pain of the bare branches and sticks that stab her feet. She ran for miles and miles, not stopping to drink or eat. She simply ran, and eventually minutes became hours, hours became days, and days became years. Her mind was clear, other than one, single thought. “Would I run off the world someday?” A question she kept asking herself as she ran, waiting and waiting, hoping and wondering where she was running.
She did stop once. Once, in the many years she ran, and she stopped in the rain. The rain was pouring down heavily, soaking her as the clouds cried. She laughed and smiled, dancing and splashing in the puddles as the dried blood rinsed off of her feet. The 15 year old blond girl was crying joyful tears as the blood washed off, as she cooled down in the holy tears. She realized the running did nothing, she felt empty until the rain. She felt alive now, dancing in the puddles, until she lost her footing and fell. Yet she didn’t fall onto the ground, or into the puddles. Instead she fell, a long way down, through a puddle, through the sky, through the void as the 15-year old cried.
The woman awoke, and she stood in an empty room with a canvas in front of her. She had a paint brush in her hand, and she was painting a picture. The picture was a painting of them. For a moment, she thought they were there, but it wasn’t true. She dropped her brush, blue paint splattered on the floor and her legs. “And all this time I have been lyin,” she muttered, “lyin’ in secret to myself.” Her eyes left the brush and wandered to the window, where the white transparent curtains fluttered as the wind blew. “I’ve been putting sorrow on the farthest place on my shelf.” She walked to the window, climbing through, slowly. One leg over, and then the other. She stood on the window seal, watching the world below, her white sundress blowing in the wind. Her blond hair fell in her face, blocking her peripheral vision. She took one step, and off she fell, falling down and down and down, closer and closer to the ground, but it seemed to keep getting farther and further away.
Again, she landed, with her beaten, bruised knees and her bare feet. Her white sun dress that went down to her knees, and her feet that were bloody from all of the rocks and the sticks she had once stepped on. She began to run again, run and run, the waves roaring, overwhelming, the thoughts of climbing the tree and falling, the memories of running and running and running. She kept running, her vision blurry, her mind racing and racing, going even faster than she was, asking, “Would I run off the world someday?”
These words echoed in her mind as her feet hit the ground. Time seemed to slow, but she kept running, faster and faster, never stopping, never slowing. She ran through the rain, not stopping to enjoy the puddles or the holy tears that fell on her. She ran back to the beach, where the waves roared and crashed louder than ever before. She ran through the forest, on the overgrown path she used to take, past the old oak tree she had climbed. The safety yellow caution tape was still around the tree, yet she never slowed. She ran and ran, until at last, in the distance, there was a small building.
A small cottage sat there, covered in vines and overgrown black berry bushes. Her feet ached, her chest was screaming and her throat was burning. She collapsed in front of the cottage, exhausted by her many years running, her many years searching, wandering and drifting through the world. She sat up, slowly, crying and breathing heavily, the soft bed underneath her calling her name. The waves turned into beeping, like that of a monitor. Her sundress became a hospital gown, her hair pulled back from her face so a nasogastric tube could be connected to her nose. She looked around, the white hospital room being unnecessarily bright, the beeping being overwhelming and the room smelling sterile. She looked to her right, and there they were. Her family. They really were there. She had finally made it back home.
108Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlkFMV6edCU
