Eden sighed. Her body shuddered and ached, hating her for the merciless running she had been doing. Her body wasn't used to it- P.E was the one class she could successfully skive without capture. If only she had gone, she could have ran harder. Ran faster. Of course, her past, fourteen year- old self didn't know that. The past her had been focused on lip gloss and boys.

It had been seven hours since she had murdered her mother's husband- she wouldn't refer to him as her stepfather. It felt wrong, and she had never liked that abomination of a human being. Eden had nowhere to go, now she was in the heart of London. A packed city with no leeway. She knew the streets were dangerous, but staying anywhere she could be recognised was even worse. Plus, sixteen, no money and no allies. Eden was on her own.

This was a nightmare to Eden. No, nightmare wasn't bad enough. This was the end to her. It was run, or get caught. This was her endgame, no way out now.

She wrapped her thin coat round her shoulders. Eden wasn't sure what else to do, so that's what she did, in hopes that she'd survive the night. Chilled to the bone, just like she'd never felt before. She knew she should have bought the coat that was utilitarian and cheap rather than the one that was stylish and useless, and blowing past the thousands. She shrugged the coat off and laid against a wall, the coat covering the better half of her torso. It was a poor improvisation of a quilt, but it was either that or the wet cardboard under the giant bin next to her. 

Eden shivered. England was known for its despicable weather, but now was not a good time at all for a storm. Luckily enough, the alley she had picked was overshadowed by quite a few large trees, and though it provided shelter, they didn't block the cold. One thing being pampered forever does to you- all the bad things seems worse. She hadn't been rich, but she certainly wasn't poor, either. There was no sign of lightning yet, but it was bound to come, so her rubber wristband and her hi-top converse stayed on, while she shovelled all her jewellery into her little shoulder bag, stashing it under a pile of bricks. She'd pawn them in the morning.

She would have to get over it, she resolved. If she'd hit rock bottom, nothing could get worse. Right? That was what she told herself, at least. As soon as she could, she'd hop a ferry to France or something then head over to America, maybe. She could create a whole new alias, if she could. She would have thought, 'flawless plan', but when one says that something can go wrong, it will, and they mean it. Sod's Law was one of those things that she wished didn't exist.

She stayed up for hours. Her phone was teetering on the edge of low power, only on twenty percent. She gave it no matter. She could steal a phone charger from somewhere, right? She'd snatched this really nice Chanel purse out a store once when her mum wouldn't buy her one. 

She grinned, albeit heart-broken. The tears spilled and she chuckled to herself under the sinking sun. The thought brought back memories; her mum had never found out and the purse was still on her shelf at home. It was a plan, one that probably was going to get her caught , but a plan.

And she fell asleep under the light of dying stars.

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