Elysian Solitude

She loved to run. As a little girl her favorite part of school was recess when she could chase the other girls and boys around the playground, the wind playing with her pigtails. Blows and kisses of the sweet air at the heels of her feet but, it was the adrenaline rushing in her chest that kept her going. Calming deep breaths of air as she slowed down, her mind overwhelmed with this feeling of tranquility. Dust covered her clothes but it was no matter to her. Even the biting comments of classmates didn’t stop her from running laps, the way the wind felt on her face was intoxicating and she didn’t want to share that experience with another. For it was hers, and only hers. Given that, she spent most of her childhood by herself and alone. Hope always remained with her though, that the wind would be her companion for forever and always. 

She loved to run. Invigorating days with morning and evening runs when she just couldn’t get enough, her routine was set as she grew older. Jubilation was found most often on the rainy days. Killing her body’s limits with every single run, but the blessed pecks of nature in cold drops across her face made it worthwhile. Love for the rain, a neverending daydream. Meanwhile, her loneliness didn’t abandon her and neither did the wind on her runs. Never was she left behind, but instead made new allies with the nature, the rain being her second favorite to the wind. 

She loved to run. Over hills and through streets with the sun blazing on her skin, the perfect tan is already creeping in as the summer begins. Pansy fields exuding delicate aroma scents that mesmerize every passerby, herself included. Quiet meadows tempt her to trespass and lay in the enthralling colors and lose herself forever, to allow her body to collapse and rest under the lull of the birds. Rushes of the familiar adrenaline remain with her, for now.

She loved to run. Spurs of sprints through bustling cities, passing by the native folk who have nothing better than to pollute their home, both physically and with words. Towers of concrete buildings all racing each other to the high limits of the atmosphere. Unleashing high heavy, smoky clouds of breath distant from her own clean ones. Very melancholic memories would flood her mind simply breathing in the toxins of the air, these runs usually ended early with a fit of coughing. 

She loved to run. Winter, spring, summer, or fall and she could be found in the early mornings running. Xanadu, abode, home, or any other name was really just running to her. Yardsticks could not measure nearly how much she’s run over the course of her life, and it would only grow through her high school years. Zephyr winds became her backbone as she grew popular in sports and more had an interest in her. And she attracted the attention of numerous boys, too. 

She loved to run. Boys may have been where she began running to instead of a place to clear her thoughts when they began to possess her mind. Climbing into their cars and driving to places instead of taking a quick run or walk like she normally did, her routine changed with them in her life. Drowning in their thoughts of her and their opinions on her and their views on her until she couldn’t think for herself. Eager to impress them she ran more to stores to purchase makeup and clothes than when she used to run to detach from the world. Friends or enemies, she couldn’t tell liars from allies apart. Girls turned their backs on her quicker than their average breakup fixed with a rebound. 

She loved to run. Heartbreak from her first boyfriend turned ex led her to quit running. Instead, she found herself hiding in her room scrolling through social media letting the dopamine attached notifications consume her whole. Jealousy was one of her enriched attributes by the end of her high school years, and revenge wasn’t too far behind, yet running was utterly erased from her mind. Knitting fake confidence into her morning makeup routine and messing with her hair, similar to how her long forgotten wind companion would’ve performed the task. Leather seats pushed back in a red Mercedes-Benz where life is no longer remembered and running from problems was the new procedure in place. Murdering the older version of herself over and over and over again with never ending stabs of insults and abuse. 

She loved to run. Negligence to her mental or physical state wasn’t uncommon anymore, with her grades and relationships failing her priorities had shifted. Open wounds with just continual pours of salt covered her body head to toe. Pouring her own tears of salt just to feel something these days when the depression left her feeling empty and nothing. Quarter past two in the morning and she’s succumbed to the deep, dark abyss of procrastination far too long. Regrets and mistakes envelope her until she grabs her shoes and goes for one run. Sharp pains hit her like a continuous fire of bullets but she welcomes it like an old friend, because it was. The old runs she used to have were amazing while they lasted, but she felt like a stranger rerunning the paths that had once been engraved by her own feet.

She loved to run. Unsure of where her motives and future lied, she moved. Visionary place, it was, which guaranteed new places to explore with her runs. Wonders of the world could be found in those simple sunsets along the warm beaches, where only her runs could take her these days. Xanthic, golden waters ease her feet and help take her mind off of things. Yet again, the beauties and facades were all she saw in the new city. Zoning out of paradise when hell is the biting current under the prospecting waves. 

She loved to run. Addictions to the new place were beginning to show with bottles of liquor and men around her apartment, each day a new man and bottle. Bliss bloomed in many areas of her life and the aforementioned were not excluded from that list. Capturing the horrors of the world within the palms of her hands was a game she came to enjoy fairly quickly, disregarding the many consequences that would follow. Drink the horrors away and tomorrow shall come.

She loved to run. Encrypted love letters across her neck flowered in many colors of trouble and dilemmas. Frequent long nights with his hand tangled in her hair, her new found escape. Gorgeous eyes staring into hers, deep and dark, baring every dirty little secret he ever kept, running into her eyes lavished in filthy white red silks. Hurtling herself headfirst into an avalanche but somehow always coming out bleeding crimson. 

She loved to run. Inevitably, she’d run to him now. Jokes on him, he’s taken over her mind one small piece at a time and is stealing her heart at the same time. Killer’s on the loose and soon she will be hung in a noose, but she’ll be blinded by the presentation and make a deadly mistake. Listen to your mind before he gets inside and maybe you won’t die– 

She loved to run. Malevolent wishes and terrors infect her mind from him, and a new type of running is begun. Nonsense of the passions and dreams should end now when everything will end anyway, so why not have a little bit of… fun? Original ideas are the ones they lead with, running through the town leaving tendrils and trails of chaos and havoc. Police know and memorize their names to faces as do the people. Quartz rose crystals are taken and resold slightly tinted red, for anything can have a price tag if deemed valuable enough. Rest in peace, rest in peace, rest in peace, a chant she smiled to with the glittering blade driving down home. 

She loved to run. Silent runs in the dark of the night. Trouble followed her like her shadow, lingering through all hours through the day, slithering up to whisper dark things in her ears. Undivided attention on him when they break a run for it, while seeing the streets light up with dazzling blue and red lights, he exhibits a great bag full of stolen cash from her. Victory bites at their Achilles’ heels, but misses unfortunately. Wails of sirens ring and echo in her ears, the pounding ever so similar to the sounds of her feet striking the dirt trails and her heart hammering in her chest. 

She loved to run. Xyseric lies pulsating in her mind leave her feeling six feet under. Yesterday, she wasn’t so terrorized. Zens were her running, her only escape as a child was running but now it took a new meaning behind bars because it hadn’t been enough. All that stamina from a child was lost as she grew up and threw the passion away. Belated dues and it was her time to start it up again to lose herself in the feeling that everything hurts and she can’t breathe and she wants to just quit and she’s going to die… but in a good way. Criminals lock eyes and a plan is formed without a sound leaving their lips, nothing and yet everything is aware in their minds of their role in escaping jail. Doom will not be theirs tonight. 

She loved to run. Even when the stick of dynamite blows up the side of a building, and she’s running hand and hand with him with a wicked smile shared and everything is just perfect. Falling bricks and cash around them, almost like the rain she used to run in as a little girl, brush them softly or ignore them completely. Guaranteed nightmares were sure to follow that night, as two strangers snuck into their place and lied with them and only let one live with the pain. Her.

She loved to run. Immediately, following the slit… she ran. Just a runner, she had once been, but now she was wanted, a criminal, a wife widow, a robber, someone who loves the taste of trouble, and too many more to count. Knives under her bare feet as she ran and ran and ran, the only man who would run and run and run with her was gone and she wasn't… so she ran and ran and ran. Limitless world, with a young girl who had seen too much of the world in such a short time. 

She loved to run. More days and more nights, running and searching for the strangers that killed him, a man so ever close to her heart. No place was unsearched and no person was not attacked with questions. Only now, the whole life they’d planned fell to nothing without the other. Place to place, ransacked and bombarded with thieves she hired, assassins wrapped around her finger like once her husband’s. Quiet missions, quiet answers. Revenge never tasted so sweet like a gun loaded and within reach, strapped to her thigh. 

She loved to run. She could feel it, how close the strangers were. They were dealing with her now and were simply too close to pull off a quick kill and they ought to have known better to keep an eye on their backs. Unlucky they were, how lucky she was. Very lucky indeed. 

She loved to run. With a pistol cocked and leverage in hand, a waltz inside their home was nothing like the breakin they left at her own. Xenial, she was. Yet they didn’t seem to agree with screams halfway up their throats half past midnight. Zero regrets were with her when she left, satisfaction healing her and taking one last run home, a run that was her elysian solitude.