Day 5: Run in the Woods
The weekend. Brilliant for some, awful for others. For me, it's definitely the latter.
Ordinarily, I would visit Tom on the weekend. But I had to leave him behind in Canada. I still miss him, even though when he was around I wouldn't pay much attention to him. I was selfish, and only thought about what I was going through. I wish I had shown some level of kindness to him. Instead, I chose to block him out like the others and isolated myself, and I couldn't save him.
No, I couldn't save him..
After pulling on my purple converse, I climb out of the window of my 'bedroom' and onto the tree just outside. My father may have thought he made a good choice for my room, but to me there was nothing better than having a method for escape just outside my window.
They always said I only ever thought of me, myself, I. That all I was ever concerned about was me, myself, I.
Thing is, I believe them.
*****
Once I reach the bottom of the tree, I run. Most of the ice has melted, thank God for that, but I avoid any icy patches. I don't know the area, but I do have a good memory. In fact, I have one of the best memories ever. Big-headed, I know, but it's true. I can remember things from as early as when I was two years old. But I hate that I have a good memory, because I'd rather forget.
You can run, but you can't hide.
Light fills my vision, and I come to a sudden stop as I am cut off by a huge truck passing right in front of me; I had narrowly missed being hit. I'm at a motorway. You can't hear a sound from my house, so I decide that I must have run for a long while. I notice that my breathing is laboured, and I wonder what will happen once I get home - that is if my father realises I've been gone for this long, which he probably will. I look at my watch. 2pm. I left the house at 12:14. I've missed 'lunch'. As I am pretty exhausted after running for so long, I decide to walk back at a more leisurely pace.
About half an hour later, I stop by a fallen tree to rest. I lean on my knees as I stare at the ground
"You're such a mess, Ella," I mutter to myself. "You'll never make it at this rate."
I hear a loud snap behind me, and I freeze, before slowly lifting my head and turning it. A familiar smirk, then black.
YOU ARE READING
Hate Me. (On Hiatus)
RomanceElla Langridge moved from Canada to England for a reason she doesn't know - her parents won't tell her. She puts up with her father's ever-rising temper, hides his carvings, and puts up with everything he does to her. She falls for Fox - the average...
