The Runaway | Supernatural | ✓

Chapter IX - Runaway

A.N. These next two chapters are going to be shorter ones. It will make sense once you read it, but I just wanted to let you know. The final chapter will (hopefully) be a long one. For, I know where it's going to go and what's going to happen. I figured I'd let you know so you're not expecting chapters of the usual length - five to seven pages. They'll be three to four, for that's about the amount I can make work with the angle I'm trying to hit. Also, this chapter's more psychological, and it's my first time trying something like this. I hope that I do well, but feedback is much appreciated, for I want to know whether I communicated what I wanted to communicate. That is all, thanks!

- Thalia

Chapter IX - Runaway

Leila felt like collapsing. Her feet hit the man-made path heavily with each rushed step. She was headed for the edge of the city. Once there, she was certain she wouldn't come back. That bridge was too high for any return. She panted as she ran, clutching her necklace and forcing her knuckles to an unnatural white colour. Tears streaked her cheeks messily, dripping down her chin and neck. Goosebumps prickled her skin, smoke-like breath disappearing into the night sky.

    Dropping to her knees on a beaten dirt path, she rolled onto her back. Staring at the stars, she was drowning. Drowning in her own thoughts, lost in the void of her own demons. The black abyss was speckled with every name she'd ever been called. A star shot across the sky, disappearing just as quick as it had appeared.

Dean.

A tear slid down her cheek, a shaky breath escaping. Her arms were out at her sides, legs pinned together, she felt like she was being crucified. Breath caught in her chest, pins and needles sticking into her fingertips and her toes. She was numb. Out of touch with reality. Lost. The teenager was gone, she felt as if she wasn't even real anymore.

Taking in deep breaths, another shooting star flew across the sky. It dove out of the sky within a blink of her wet, red eyes.

Sam.

Absolute nothingness surrounded her. She felt as if she were free falling into a pit of no return. Her cheeks were still damp, tears falling every so often. In her numbness, she had forgotten to cry.

No.

She didn't want to cry, it had just happened. Why was she always the one to cry? She brought everyone down, no matter how much she didn't want to. Though, dragging other people out of the hole she'd dug was always easier to her. If she was focused on someone else, her own problems weren't on her surface. She could bury them, and in turn bury herself deep below.

Leila sat up, her eyes staring at nothing in particular. She couldn't comprehend anything, her thoughts were a mere buzz. The voices were shut out, but Leila knew that she couldn't hold them for long. Nothing lasted forever. She drew in a breath, she felt dead already. Was dying this easy? It just... happens? If it were that easy, why couldn't Leila do it? Why wasn't she gone a long time ago?

Then again, she knew that she sucked at everything. How was she even bad at dying? One would think it would be simple, Leila had tried so many times... she'd just wished that one of them had worked. She wouldn't have had to have been such a burden to the Winchesters. Sam and Dean were so worth it, they were nice and sheltering; the brothers that she always wanted, but never had. They shouldn't have been put through what she did, what she forced them into.

God.

Leila scrambled to her feet, pulling off the celtic knot necklace she wore and looking at it in her hands. She ran her thumb across the pendent, biting down on her lip. She should have left it. Dean could have had it to make him know that it wasn't his fault. Shaking her head, Leila looked up at the night's sky, more tears blurring her visions.