Why We Run

    Bruised and broken, she sits under the light of the moon, her only friend for years. Wrapped up in her blanket it almost seems like she is safe from it all. “I can’t,” she tells herself at night. And so she hides herself from the world, convinced that she will be better off alone. Alone, but safe, she thinks. Safe, it seems like a completely alien idea that her mind can barely understand.  A gentle breeze makes its way through the window and brushes against her skin as if meaning to comfort her. She pulls down her sleeves, but the wind has little to do with her gesture.

    The scars on the outside are but mere scratches compared to the wounds inside. Thinking about all the memories, she feels a sharp pain in her chest and clasps her hand to the locket that rests against her chest. His touch, his laugh, his smile, they all crash against her mind as the tide against rocky cliff until she feels she will drown. For a moment she allows herself to drown in his memory until it becomes too much to bear. She closes the locket, sealing away his memory. Her vision blurs and she convinces herself that, for now, she will sleep. The silence closes around her and darkness envelops her gently, hiding her tears from the world.

    Come morning she knows staying inside is impossible; there are things to be done. She places her mask in place with an almost methodical movement. As she steps into the world she hides away her pain in her soft brown pools and paints the smile upon her face with a final prayer that she will live through one more day.

    The streets are alive and teeming with life. Voices crash all around her, and occasionally someone looks at her, but they don’t see her. For that, she is thankful. She continues on her way, feeling more alone here than when she sits in her room. Her eyes scan the crowd around as that familiar feeling comes over her. There just a few steps behind her, she spots the cloaked figure.

    Without a second thought she hurries, weaving through the crowd as she does every time. Once she breaks free of it she runs toward the trees. His footsteps are just behind her. She hears the snapping of a twig, the crunching of leaves. Still she runs faster until the trees are nothing but a sea of green to her. She is confident she will get away like she has before.

    Yet, this time something changes. He calls her name with such pain that she slows to a stop. She pauses. She turns to him as he pulls his hood down. His eyes are a midnight blue like the sky just before it turns completely black. His hair is a golden caramel brown.

    They both stand perfectly scared, neither one sure what step to take. Finally she breaks the silence, asking him how he knows her name.

    His blank expression changes and his eyes light up as he replies, “I have always known you.” Confused, she bites her lip. He takes a step toward her slowly, then another.

    The girl steps back and feels her foot slip on something. A second later she finds herself looking up at him and her heart drums inside its cage as if trying to escape. When he reaches toward her she shuts her eyes expecting to feel pain.

    Her skin feels warm where his fingertips brush against her cheek. He then sweeps her hair aside to peer into her eyes, there he finds what he has been looking for. His smile falters and then falls. “Why do you hide,” he asks.

    Instinctively, she looks down, her eyes hidden once again by the curtain of her dark hair. Rosy lips press together as she remains silent. The young man seems amused and reaches toward her again. His gentle smile sends a wave of warmth in her heart, the first thing she has felt in so long. When he pulls his hands back she stares in fear as he holds her mask. She attempts to make a grab for it, but he has moved away now.

    “You don’t need it,” is all he says. His eyes wander down and he holds out his hand. “May I see,” he asks. She holds onto the edge of her sleeves, but makes no other movements. Tentatively, he reaches and takes her hands, then pushes the sleeves up until he can see the length of the dark red ribbons dancing along her skin. He frowns and traces his index finger down from the inside of her elbows to her wrists.

    At first she feels a bit of pain when he touches the new cuts, but then she feels that same warmth and when she looks down all the marks are gone. “How are—what’re you doing,” she asks.

    “Healing,” he replies gently.

    “Why?” Her throat begins to burn and she fights to push her words past the lump in her throat. “Why do you care,” she asks again, her voice rising with frustration.

    Catching her off guard, he wraps his arms around her. She pushes against him lightly. She asks her question again more desperately. “Because when you hurt, I hurt.”

    “You don’t even know who I am,” she replies stubbornly. His face begins to seem familiar, his voice soothing her to listen when he speaks.

    “I’ve always known you,” he echoes.

    “Who are you,” she feels the tears falling down her eyes and she holds her breath.

    He holds out his hand to her, palm up, to show her a burn. She looks down at her own hand, then presses her right hand to his left. One half joined with another. The heart shaped burn… is now whole.

    Everything falls silent as she falls apart, letting him hold her. Her face buries into his chest and he closes his eyes with a sad smile, stroking her hair. This time she knows she won’t hide, this time he will be there to help her heal. This time, she is not alone.