The Lovely Loner

ISOBEL'S POV

  I am running. Not in the woods like a normal cliché movie, but past blocks of apartments of a poor neighborhood. My heart beats faster with each step I take forward and every step sends spikes of pain through my skull, but I refuse to let it slow me down. When every limb in my body is on the brink of collapsing, one agonising headache won't be a reason for me to stop running.

  I can't stop. If I do... only God knows what will happen to me.

  My lips part, releasing a sharp breath that morphs into a scream. Despite the intensity of my cry for help, it feels as though no one hears me amidst the pursuit. That can't be right. People live in these buildings. Everyone knows everyone's business. Gossip is easy to spread around in this area. I know that because I lived here once. Yet it seems like no one was calling the police. The quietness of the night proves it. This is a very small neighborhood and the cops would speed up here if a crime is reported, there was nothing those vile people enjoyed more than taking people barely surviving in the slums into custody, yet there are no sirens blaring.

  Everything tonight is fucked up.

  I swallow, still moving forward. My heart thumps violently against my ribcage as I speed up.

  I understand no one would invite a stranger to their house at night, especially one who is running for her life, but the more I ran and the darker the night grew without help, the more I knew no one cared. They're not supposed to but it sucks.

  I run past the general, local trash dump and a frown forms on my face. The pungent smell of bins fills my nostrils and I pull my hand over my face to block my respiration a bit.

  Why am I here? I don't deserve this. How did I even get in this situation in the first place?

  I jump past a mini fence and sight a government scooter ahead. Sneaking a gaze backwards, I search my pocket for coins.

  Come on. Come on.

  My fingers hunt my pocket for any cent but I can't feel anything. I dip my hand in my other pocket, without stopping to catch my breath.

  Still nothing. I can't find any coins. A terrified gulp slid painfully down my throat in desperation.

  I can't see him, but I know he's here. He's everywhere. Watching me, chasing me. Monitoring my every movement and waiting for the right time to pounce. That's why despite the ache I feel in my joints and all around my body, I can't stop running. I swallow.

  Maybe I should take a pause to relax. My knees can't take this any further.

  I stop to catch my breath.

  This brief moment gives me time to raid my purse, which I did.

  Thank goodness, I found a coin!