The wind is sharp against my face, faster now. My lungs burn, worse now. My shoes hit the pavement like they've got a personal vendetta against it.
The adrenaline, as the scenery becomes a blur, as my safety becomes a risk, it's terrifiying.
Footsteps behind me—closer, then farther, then close again. Like they're playing with their food.Voices—laughter that's ugly, mean, amused by the idea of hurting.
And for a split second, I'm not here.
I'm not being chased.I'm not holding a wallet like it's a lifeline in my hand.
I'm somewhere else.I'm back on the school track.
It was summer. I remember that. Not just because the sun was out, but because back then, I spent all my time in the sun.
The world still had light.My skin still had warmth.
My smile still had reasons to be.
And I was on the track team, apparently. Somehow, some version of me had enough energy for that. It felt impossible to run now. Back when I cracked jokes on the sidelines and pretended sprinting didn't feel like a small death. Back when Tess used to laugh at something I said and hit me on the arm, soft but playful, like I was someone worth knowing.
She lived down my street. Close enough to walk home with, but far enough that it never became a habit. Walking back, sneaking glances across the street. It was friendship fated to happen.She wasn't the kind of pretty that made everyone stop and look—but something about her felt brighter. Not the spotlight, but a warm bulb in a cold room. Safe. Approachable. Straight blonde hair, but it curled when she was tired. A feminine face, always blushing. Never bags under her eyes, it was like she lived a completely different life.
Still, she wore mismatched hairbands and chewed her nails. She complained always, even if nothing mattered. She had grazes on her knees from falling too much but kept running anyway. She used to tell me I made her laugh too hard to breathe. I think that was an overexaggeration. She knew I was insecure. Still... Perhaps because I was insecure...
I used to love hearing that.
"Pick it up, Henry!" she shouted once, pacing me during sprints.I groaned. "I'm trying, why did you sprint the first lap! What are you even-.?"She laughed so hard she tripped, skidding across the gravel, palms first.I stopped running.She stood up with gravel in her hands and said, "Ahem. Is there dirt all over me. Why do I feel my legs bleeding..."
"Maybe." I coughed, hiding a laugh.
Even bleeding, she smiled.I smiled too. I think.
We stopped talking around winter.
I don't remember what died first—her kindness or my light. Maybe it was me. Maybe I started becoming this… thing. This grey shape with a voice and a hoodie and nothing worth saying. Or maybe I became that thing because of the people around me.
Regardless of anything, I didn't want the blame. Because in this life, all I get is blame.
Now she just walks past me. At school. On our street. Doesn't even glance. Like the track never happened. Like I was a photo she deleted to save storage. Like I was the friend she was meant to forget.
Sometimes I think that was heartbreak, but I didn't love her enough. And she clearly didn't see more as anything over a friend.
I stopped running on the track, I just walked by, sad, alone, terrified.
"Oi! Henry! Run faster, bro!"A shout cuts the memory in half. Sunders it like a one of those cheap wooden karate blocks.
I'm back in the present.
Back in the cold, in the haunting adrenaline fueled presentBack in the panic.Back with Liam and Jay and Reece breathing down my spine like hellhounds with Nike trainers.
My feet pound the concrete. The underpass behind me shrinks.
I try to cut across the woods, the way I used to during track drills when we wanted to skip warm-ups. My foot slips—but I catch myself. Barely. My chest is on fire. My mouth is dry. My head is louder than the footsteps behind me.
What if I fall?
What if they catch me?
What if this is how the world ends—not with a dramatic explosion, but a phone recording of me getting thrown to the ground for being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong face? Becoming a human seat?
I used to run towards things, goals, 800 meter sprints, dreams that seemed more feasible than not.Now I only run away.
From school. From people. From mirrors. From everything that ever made me feel like I was more than a body with too many thoughts.
From Tess.
There's a street ahead. If I can make it to the corner, maybe I can lose them. Maybe someone will be there. Maybe—
"HE'S CUTTING LEFT!"
Reece's voice is close now. Real close.
I push harder.
My body says no.
I run anyway.
Because I don't know what else to do.
I just run.
My mind's screaming. My legs feel like they've been swapped with someone else's. Someone slower. Someone softer.
But somehow, I keep going.Because stopping is worse.Stopping is surrender.
Then—A fence.Too tall to climb, too wide to loop around before they catch up.
I pivot.Hard right.Slip on gravel.Catch myself.
But it's too late.
The street here dead-ends into a wall behind someone's overgrown garden—bricks covered in moss, just high enough to trap me in. It's a box. A dead end. The perfect little stage for something awful.
I turn.
They're already here.
Liam first.Then Jay.Reece just behind, catching up.
Three silhouettes with shadows too long, smiles too sharp, breath visible in the air.
"Thought you were fast, Henry." Liam's laughing, but it's low, edged. "Track and field club right?"
My chest rises and falls like it's trying to escape me.My hand tightens around the wallet like it matters.My back hits the wall.
Reece steps forward, cracking his knuckles. Jay's filming now, phone pointed casually like this is entertainment.
Dani's voice cuts in from the distance, lazy and amused, "Don't mess up his face too bad. We still got math together next term. People will ask questions, the wrong people I mean."
Liam looks at me.
Closer now.
Real close. I flinch. Again and again, until I'm twitching like a freak. There's no worse feeling than being under someone's control, and being unable to break it.
He grins.
"Let's see what you're hiding."
"Don't-." My voice is a phantom sound.
And then—
A hand reaches for me.