Overruled

Chapter 7 - The Epiphany of Light and Dark

Part 1: People of the Light

Althea

Curling from its slumber, the city made no sound.

From the picturesque horizon, the sun was barely showing. Gentle droplets of morning drizzle fell quietly from the sky. Lights from lamps outlining the corners of the streets faded as the onset of daylight diluted skyscrapers, bridges, and vehicles.

The capital's heartbeat was immature creating a suffocating melody of silence that one can hear even the faintest whipping of the wind.

However, somewhere within the intertwining passages of the metropolis, audible stomping sounds with quickened paces echoed amidst the quiet setting. The strides were at a constant haste but were noticeably cautious.

At every step, the runner took speed. And at that speed, the runner sheds memories. Her breathing was shallow but steady. Determined to finish what she started.

It was the morning Althea decided to go for a quick run.

She ran like the face of the earth was her playground, her field. She ran like nothing else seemed to matter. She ran like she owned the road.

Althea didn't care about the cold drizzle touching her face as she sprinted through sidewalks and pathways. She bolted down the course, quickening her pace at every step, feeling the ground welcome every contact that her shoes made.

She figured, if she was not successful with sleeping, at least she can do something about the earth underneath her feet and the wind colliding against her face.

Last night, after the meeting with The Professor, Althea went home and wasn't able to sleep. At all.

She just tossed and turned on her bed, somehow wishing that the Sandman showers her with sleep dust. She was tempted to count sheep but then she thought that was ridiculous. Nobody does that anymore. It's either you would bask yourself in gauntlets of alcohol or take a pill or two.

So she stood up from her bed, went to her small work desk, and tried to do some scribbles.

Althea loves to create poetry and simple literary pieces. Usually, during moments when sleep was just impossible, she'll just write a poem or a short story and after a while, she'll feel calm and drowsy.

Althea sat down on her desk, took her pen and stared at a blank page of paper.

...

In silence I pick up the pieces of...

...

"Pieces of what? Nah, scratch that. It's stupid."

She crossed that out and threw the crumpled paper in the bin. Starting anew.

From the moment I've laid eyes on you

The sun seemed...

...

"Ah..."

...

"Hmm..."

...

"Seemed what?"

...

"What the fuck, I got nothing." Althea cupped her face in the palm of her hands, exasperated at her deficiency of words fit for poetry.

So she decided to run. At four in the morning, Althea decided to gear up and run through the blazing cold and dreary daybreak.

Aside from The Professor's remarks and misdemeanor, there are a lot of things going through Althea's mind - her dad's proposal, the brothers who are now enjoying their fucking freedom, and Jade. Not to mention her Good Samaritan who, until now, made no contact. This irritated the life out of Althea. Because she figured, a person who's willing take care of a complete stranger must have the intuition to contact the person she rescued. At least that's how Althea will do it.