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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1719790-Let-Me-Go
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by mxoey Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Teen · #1719790
Dreams and fear.
Hell. Get me out of here.

    As I sneaked into the arched door of the ancient church, I shivered when a rush of cold breeze hit me. I knew I shouldn't have come here, but somehow I felt drawn to this mysterious structure. I have nowhere to go anymore anyway. I can hear the beating of my heart loud and clear in my ears as my blood rushed quickly through my veins. This feels like I'm in a typical horror movie, with the deep humming of creepy evil circus music in the background. I even expect the sound of the door slamming shut behind me.
    The wood-board floor creaked under my footsteps...  Cursing my weight, I moved forward... slowly...
    Then, my heart stopped. In front of me stood a dark figure looking down at me... Lit by the silver moonlight that was filtered by the windows on the opposite wall of the church, his face was serene. The patterns cast upon his visage made him look ghost like and unnatural.
    I was too scared to even blink. Should I run? In which direction? I can't outrun his long legs. The door's behind me... only a few meters away. What if he grabs me while I had my back turned?
    I didn't even have another second to think. His eyes were gazing upon me.
    My throat was clogged and my face whitened, I imagine. My hands broke out into cold sweat. Sorry. I wanted to say... but instead, I let out a weak squeal.
    Hell. Get me out of here. Now. I felt the man was dangerous and I won't take a second guess. My instincts told me to turn around and run home, but my feet were... well... grounded. You don't have a home anymore. Remember? I heard myself.
    Instead I stood like a living statue, squinting my eyes, trying to make out the man's features. I can tell he wore a coat to cover his lean body, gloves on his hands and boots at his feet. Was I scared? I don't know. Everything bad possible had already happened to me. Why do I fear? What do I fear?

    The stranger suddenly pulled out something from his coat pocket. Before I wanted to figure out what it was, my body twisted and I broke into a run...
    "STOP," I heard his raspy voice boom into my ears. Too late, I ran out of the church door, tumbled down the stairs and into the empty streets. 

    Get up... Get up... Get up! I urged myself. The side of my head and places all over my body throbbed.
    I felt droplets of ice-cold rain start to fall. The clear moon was long gone. I wonder how long I've been here.
    Cars raced pass me. I did not look up. Far ahead, I see the blurry traffic lights turn red. I was trembling, cold, as rain rolled down my bare arms from my damp hair... The few people passing by ignored me. They did not offer help, nor even glanced at me as they sped to move away from me.
    Suddenly, not only what's happened in the last few hours came back into my mind but also all the horrible things from the last sixteen years of my life too. Fights. Breakups. Deaths. Abandon. Lies. Pain.
    Tears rolled down my face and dropped onto the pavement, blending in with the rain water. I was hurt. On the inside, I felt torn. No one could see the pain I was hiding, but sooner or later, it's going to eat its way out of me.
    I cried without a sound, crawling down the streets a few blocks away from a place I used to call home.
    Home no longer existed. It's supposed to be a place where I could feel safe and wanted... be happy and carefree, but that wasn't the case anymore...
    I wanted to scream but no sound came out of me.  I thought coming to church was a good idea. It obviously wasn't.
    If people looked at me now, they would be afraid. I looked monstrous. I angrily stared at the pavement's lines as I stood and started running. Running away from a place I no longer knew. The familiar trees and houses became a blur as I forced myself to run faster. Faster.
    I couldn't stop until I was out of breath, collapsed on the unfamiliar street. I waited there. Waited for death to come, yet I did not want to die. I had nothing to lose anymore, so why care? Why live after losing everything you loved? I don't know.
    What if that guy from the church wanted to help? How foolish of me for even thinking that. He had such a threatening voice.
    I only knew that, deep inside, I didn't want to die. Survival instinct, maybe, but I reasoned and told myself that a life like this is not worth living.
    I rested my eyes and felt the burn. I breathed heavily, feeling each drop of the pouring rain clashing onto my skin and soaked clothes, listening to the sound of car wheels rolling in the distance. No one's going to find me here... Good.
    I relaxed each muscle, feeling each bruise and cut on my skin, and feeling my broken heart.
    With my eyes half-closed I felt a presence beside me. Boots I think I saw. A man. In a coat with gloves.
    I tilted my head upwards but all was a blur. I still couldn't see his face. The bright glare of the street light formed a halo above his head.
    "It's not time to go home yet," he whispered.
    I was too weak to speak or to answer. I could only manage to mutter out a few incomprehensible syllables... and then blacked out.
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