Flyleaf

5

From the moment I started running I knew it was a bad idea, I had no clue where I was or how to get away from this place. The twins where right behind me and I could hear their foot steps, two other nurses joined the chase which only fueled the fire to escape. Out of no where a man tackled me from the side, I could only assume he was a nurse as well. He used his fat ass to pin me down holding both my wrists firmly to the ground, without thinking I bashed my head into his nose and in a split second he was off me whaling like a child. I got up and kicked him in the stomach a few times just to make sure he was down then I grabbed his keys and kept running. I saw a small supplies room and locked myself in there.

I sat on the floor with my back against the door trying to slow my breathing as I listened to the foot steps going past the door. The room wasn't fancy, but it would do. The carpet was worn but intact, and I appreciated the weak attempt at decorating with a very bad painting of some pears.

After a few moments, I locked the bolt and chain on the door and then sat back in the room's lone chair. It was wooden with a straight back, but it felt like the most comfortable thing in the world. Now, I had a few options. I could stay, of course. I could hang out for days—months, even score free pills and be treated like a queen but I cant egnore this feeling that Mc Scary Superintendent dude doesn’t run his asylum the way it ought to be, which makes me feel a tad uneasy. Another option was to fight my way through the security, nurses and big ass fences, which was neither safe nor easy. It would also be particularly challenging considering Im not really fit and I was surprised to feel how sore my legs were. Every part of me ached, and sleep actually sounded fantastic. It had been no more then five minutes of running and I feel like this. Its pretty pathetic, I know.

With a lot of contemplating, I decided to make a run for it, to get out of this place and maybe start over somewhere quiet. I grabbed a white coat off the coat rack and waited a few more moments before I unlocked the door, I peaked out to see if anyone was there and like always I had impeccably bad timing. A man stopped in his tracks and stared at me, he was tall and lean and he didn’t look like a nurse but I had a odd feeling of familiarity. Like always I could not help but admire fantastic features when they attracted my attention, he was well built, with a rather good looking face and deep brown eyes that look to tired to be of his age.

“You seem lost, can I help you find what your looking for, because Im sure its not the supply room.” He said looking at me with a silly expression on his face, leaning back and forth on the heals of his feet.

“Uhm... No thanks Im fine, you can go make me a coffee though that would be great. Milk and four sugars please.” I replied, then I turned around and walked away trying to look like I belonged here.

He laughed and walked next to me, I then followed his eyes to where he was looking and thought he was staring at my boobs but I then realized he was looking at a name tag.

Shit.

“Sorry Dr Jack Freeman, I never make good coffee. Peculiar name you have there considering your a female, you are one arnt you?” He smirked.

“My father was drunk when he named me and ofcourse Im a bloody female.” I stated, flatly.

“I see well how about you come with me to my office and we can figure out where you need to be. How does that sound ?”

I stopped and looked at him trying to decide what to do about this.

“Lets stop fucking around. Are you going to leave me alone or not.”

“No.” He said, doing that anoyingly goofy smile of his again. I was about to turn and run and I think he knew which was why he reached out to grab my wrist, so I kneed him in the stomach, which he clearly hadn't expected. His eyes widened in shock—and a little pain—providing me with an opening. That opening was only long enough for me to yank open a hallway door, and before I could take two steps, he had a hold of me. He had hold of my arm and triped me my foot, so I face planted the floor then  pinning me with his weight and prevented my limbs from doing any more surprise kicking.

This was always my biggest problem in fights though: opponents—usually men—with more strength and weight. My speed was my greatest asset in those situations, but being held down made dodging and evasion a non-option. Still, every part of me struggled, making it difficult for him to keep me down.