I kept running. As fast as possible. I had to keep on believing I could make it, although I also believed one little trip and it was over for me.
It was a chilly morning in November. As usual, and like a habit, I was picking up the usual package shipment at the depot called KTHN from an organization called M. O. M., when a person came sprinting straight towards me.
From just looking at her from a distance away, she was sweaty and tired. Her hands were out, extended towards me. I put my hand up to wave towards her, yet something seemed off about the way her eyes moved across me. The lazy, slow walk she usually had was gone, replaced with her nimble pace.
While my mind was blaring with panic alarms, M. O. M. laughed over my current dilemma, seeing the numerous times I have escaped.
But this time, it was tremendously different. Dianna, the girl, she was fiercer than usual. Her long legs and padded jacket made her look like an ostrich. A really really fast ostrich running towards a monkey. Flying in a jungle full of vines and knowledge, yet, slow and laggy like a computer that was used for more than 5 years.
I started sprinting, trying to keep my fast pace as much as possible to throw her off. After a few minutes, she was gone. Relieved, but still cautious, I jogged. My work started in 5 minutes and 21 seconds, and I was safe there. The headmistress there was very protective of her workers.
Yet in the back of my peripheral vision, I saw her shadow, just around the corner to give me a false sense of security. I began to jog faster and faster, gaining speed every second. Only 8 more turns until the fortress of safety. In less than a minute, she was on to me. I knew that she was there, but didn't speed up; I was careless.
I sprinted, trying to focus on the road ahead, not the cramp in my lower abdomen. I saw a few colleagues, who lived in my area, not bothering to say hello.
I felt the warmth of her hand reaching, but before she could touch me, I took a sharp right turn. By then, my knees ached, my mouth tasted bitter with my blood-ridden lips, and the cold winter wind slapped my cheeks harshly.
The streets were empty, a few stopping by to answer their phone calls. Surprisingly, I hadn’t knocked anyone off their feet that day. The last time this game has happened, it didn’t end well...
Right turn
The traffic light went red and the crossroad light went green. I looked, right and left, as instructed by M.O.M. and made a run for it. I was now on Rosewell Drive. My parent’s friend lived here with his mother, so I went through the gates that blocked off others trying to go into the townhouse’s garden and zig-zagged, heading for the gate out.
Of course, she knew my family and friends too well. Dianna stood tall at the exit gate. I swallowed back my breakfast and glanced towards the entrance gate. Thanks to the stroller and Mrs. Dumming's crazy-loud-if-you-wake-him-up-you-are-dead baby, it was blocked. There was only one other way out, and that was through the actual townhouse. Most people wouldn’t dare go into their parent’s friends.
But it’s was Uncle Patrick. He was everyone’s uncle.
I took a left turn outside the front door of the townhouse. No sign of her yet.
Right turn
I was in a dead-end. I had forgotten there was construction. I turned back, facing her. I ducked miraculously, missing her palm only by an inch.
Right turn
“Dianna, I thought this ended yesterday. Please, go after someone else,” I yelled.
Right turn
“But no one else is as forgetful as you,” she shouted back.
Left turn
“And yet, no one has caught me.”
Left turn
She scoffed. “Yeah, right. The one and only reason being that this would drag on forever if you were to be in my position. In short, you will ruin the fun game. Your little sympathies, your soft heart, your slowness in thought, we can’t trust you in the business.”
Right turn
“But I-” It was true. Every single word. “Then-then leave me out of it.”
A gasp rang in the streets. Every fellow worker stared and shook their heads at me with disbelief.
“You wouldn’t dare. This means you are out of every game. Out of this group.”
“Yes, yes I would.”
I had reached the sanctuary. I was safe.
“The Bell hasn’t rung.” Dianna pointed out. I groaned.
“You know everyone would hate it if I become it.”
“I-I...that’s true," Dianna looked to be in thought for a few seconds. But her wits came back soon, along with her guard. "George, on second thought, I-I don’t want you to become it. I-I’m going to go after someone else. I can’t risk you being it, I thought if I got rid of it from me to you, and you would go try tag people, they wouldn’t get bored, bu-but, I’m not so sure anymore. They might--they might kick me out.”
“Dianna, it’ll be fine. We can go to another group. But this, this game isn’t our best. Running and running, you know we aren’t suited for this. Too much of the same thing, over and over again. I-I found a new game. One suited for us. We can join their group. Join their game.” I took another sharp turn to the right.
“Th-that’s true. We can do that.”
She was running just a little further from me.
We both skidded to a stop and I stepped towards her as a sign of companionship. But too late I realized something. A change so recent, I had forgotten.
She moved closer.
When I had gotten a bit faster, taller, and a tiny bit swifter these days…
They loved making fun of me when I was “it”.
Her hand loomed over my back. And she opened her mouth to say the treacherous, life-ruining words,
“Tag!”
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
0 comments