The Runaway | Supernatural | ✓

Prologue

FAIRFAX, INDIANA

Leila Connors had never truly felt what running for her life was like until she took off down her street in broad daylight and prayed her neighbours didn't see her.

Running had always been part of the plan. Her bag had been packed for weeks. Stuffed with the small amount of money she'd managed to collect, there was no doubt in Leila Connors' mind that leaving was her best option. Looking back on the white picket fence, she could barely feel a thing.

Where was she headed? Who knew. Leila sure didn't. But that was what running away had been for, right? A change of pace. A new life. Somewhere she didn't have so much history and somewhere that would take care of her before she took care of herself. She carried herself down sidewalks she barely knew and alleys she knew too well. Her blonde braid slapped her in the face as she continued running.

The scenery passed quickly. Beige houses upon beige houses in a picture perfect neighbourhood that came straight out of a 2000's coming-of-age teen movie or a 1980's slasher movie. Leila herself felt like the latter was truer, but her mother had always chided her for that. She didn't fight back because she knew it was true.

Her chest felt heavy. Heart pounding harder than it had ever. Leila felt like she couldn't breathe. Like an anvil was pressing against her chest the moment she'd broken free of the chains that kept her at home. Maybe sobs were building up. Not because she was afraid of leaving. She was afraid of getting caught, of her plans being ended before she could see them through. If she was stopped, there would be no end. She'd be monitored until the day she died—she already knew what that felt like. It wasn't something she needed again.

Leila had always believed she would be able to hold onto life in Fairfax. She believed that life would turn itself around, that things would get better. All the things her counsellor would tell her just to make her shut up and go away.

But Leila knew better. After a while, at least.

The hopeful became the hopeless, and from there, she lost the person she thought she was meant to be. Leila had enough cuts on her arms to know that life didn't get better. It didn't turn itself around. There was no light at the end of the tunnel.

Sure, she'd told the people she loved that the scratches on her arms were from a cat. What cat? Oh, that stray one down the street she made friends with. Yes, she did have to be more careful. She could get rabies that way. Next time she won't pet the cat. And that was that. No more questions. People only cared for about a minute and a half, and Leila knew how to stall for that long. It wasn't that hard.

Scars faded. Memories did, too. Leila found it hard to believe that she would ever escape Fairfax completely. That was why she was running. Running felt like freedom. It felt like she could accomplish anything she set her mind to. It felt like the light at the end of the tunnel. Almost. Could it be light at the end of the tunnel if it meant Leila's life ended?

It wouldn't take long. Leila had run away because someone could have found her before the deed was done. Getting out of the city was her last hurrah. It was her final goodbye. It was a way to make everyone—her mom, dad, her sister—not care about her. To let them be angry with her. To make sure they didn't come looking for her. And, most importantly, to make sure they didn't miss her when she was gone.

Running away was supposed to be courteous. Yet each step she took felt like it was in the wrong direction. Leila hadn't regretted leaving. Maybe she regretted not being able to say goodbye herself. When was the last time she'd told her mom she loved her?

Then again, when was the last time her mom had told Leila she loved her? A double edged sword did twice as much damage.

Leila didn't know how long she had been running. But her legs ached and her lungs screamed. She was far enough away that she could give herself a break. Night had fallen quicker than she'd expected, the world was dark around her. A cover of night fall wasn't a bad thing. It would make her less easy to find. The sea of young blondes the world had to offer was a blanket for her to hide under. To fly under the radar and to get to where she needed to go.