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x.friendship bracelet
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A heart beat against a hollow chest. Aching for escape. Burning in agony. Is this what a heart attack felt like? Each breath felt like needles. A burning fire lit the back of the throat. The pain was engulfing while numbing at the same time. Suffocation threatened with each ache of breath.
The house was far, but not far enough. A mob followed, hot on their hidden trail. She could hear them, the faint yells, and the dim lights of the flashlights carried by known islanders. Nova's hand shook as she attempted to get the key into the lock. Only growing more frustrated every time she missed. Tears streamed down her cheeks, blurring her vision. Her chest still ached, and her throat burned. And she couldn't do this for much longer.
With open palms she hit the wooden door, splintering her hand. Fresh, frustrated tears found their way down her red cheeks, "Fuck! C'mon, open dammit!"
Then came a faint click, and Nova felt the door loosen under her touch. She didn't even take time for a breath of relief before pushing the door open and latching it closed behind her and John B, making sure the locks were back in place. Now, with a jagged sigh, Nova leaned her back against the closed doors and slid down to the floor, her head in her hands, and she cried.
John B. followed, a protective arm moving to draw her into his side. He turned his flashlight off, and for about an hour and a half, they stayed in the same position.
He moved first. After the noises stopped, he stood on the dusty wood floors. He slowly moved the windows draped with expensive curtains. Carefully, he pulled the thick material to the side. He shook his head, nothing. They were alone.
The cops and search party had moved on. The lights from the cracks in the curtain lit the floor no more. Footsteps on the porch had gone, and the voices faded with each step they took away from their sanctuary.
Nova remained on the floor. Knees brought to her chest; hands tangled in her hair as the palms of her hand cupped her ears to drown out the noise that followed them. Her breathing was still heavy, and her sight blurred from tears.
John B. moved over, stopping to stand before her, she looked up at him through her wet lashes, he dropped, crouching to level their gazes. He reached out, taking her wrist, pulling it away from her head. He held it for a moment, tracing small circles into her skin.
"You wanna move?" he asked carefully, and Nova nodded. "Okay, stand up, come on. Don't worry I have you," he whispered as he helped pull her off the ground. John B. was careful and kept a hold onto her, noticing the slight wiggle of her knees. "Come on, let's go upstairs."
