Arcadia

00

00:00

I leave tonight.

I leave no note; take little of my belongings, just a few of my clothes, books, toiletries and my shiny pair of handcuffs, kept in an old shoebox beneath my bed. They were my mother's and she gave them to me on my fifteenth birthday as a gift, when she actually was at home. When I look at them I feel my an ache in my chest as if I'm longing for something, but I know now's not the time to get all sentimental.

There's a weird feeling in my stomach, as if my intestines have been filled to the brim with lead. I take a deep breath and hold my breath for seven seconds, then breathe out slowly through my mouth. It's supposed to calm you down.

I sure need a lot of calming right now.

I open the front door, and the instinct to run back to my bed and forget everything overwhelms me so much I struggle to breathe. Heart beating ferociously, I gulp, pushing all the catastrophic thoughts away and take one step out the door. Then another, and then another. One foot after the other, I manage to get to the bus stop.

And I wait.

There is a warm summer breeze that soothes my worry, reminding me of walks in the park and the smell of the sun and wind during the day. It tricks my mind into thinking everything is normal.

I sit down on the chairs by the bus stop and quietly hum, trying to ignore the aching feeling that has been increasingly growing in my chest by the minute. I can't even breathe properly, and I try all I can to calm my nerves.

A low rumbling at the end on the road that startles me, taking me out of my reverie. I look closer and notice a large shape speeding towards me, and after a few seconds I realize it's a bus. Legs slightly shaky, I get up from the seat and thrust my hand out, which I notice is trembling. The bus wheels squeal as it brakes in front of me, like they are warning me not to get on. The doors swish open with a unwelcoming hiss. I bite my lip and force myself on, showing my pass to the driver. Can't back down now Amy. His eyes waver on me as if he notices something wrong, but he keeps quiet and gives me a little nod. I find a seat at the back and stare out the window as the doors slide shut and the low grumble of the bus starts up again.

I'm leaving this town, and I know for certain in my heart that I will never be coming back.

01:01

I'm at the harbour.

And sure enough, one dainty looking boat is sat on the water, gently floating from side to side. I head towards it, and the smell of fresh salt water enters my nostrils. It is pretty dark, but I can just make out the lining of the boat. I fast walk promptly into a broken lamppost.

Oops. Not a post. A boy.

"Woah," he staggers backwards, throwing his hands up in alarm.

No. It can't be.

"I'm so so sorry," I stammer, wincing at my stupidness, 'I didn't know you were here, I swear.'"

It's not.

He shakes his head abruptly, apparently a little dazed. I notice his hair, which is like a mop of blond curls on top of his head. Model hair. Shampoo advert hair. I-don't-give-any-fucks-but-I-do hair. Pretty hair.

His eyes are a curious shade of emerald green, and similar to a cats. The way they were fixated on me so intensely is frankly a little unnerving. "What are you doing out here so late?" He asks, eyebrows raised.