I had blisters now from my lack of socks. It started to rain. I looked up. The clouds were red from the reflection of city lights on a polluted sky.
The smokers looked over at me. They held a small conference about me I presumed. But lately I had thought everything was about me. I started running again.
Flying.
I was tired. No, I was too scared to be tired. I thought the smokers were following me so I picked up pace. Faster, until my boots felt like they were on fire. The echoes were all around. Pounding into my head, screaming at me. They weren’t echoes anymore. They were ghosts.
“You aren’t pretty! Who told you that?”
“Clean that up damn it! You useless bitch!”
“Take that off you look ridiculous!”
Wham. Someone hit me. WHAM ! Again, harder. WHAM ! I was down. My breath flew from my body. My eyes were still open, I was still running. Running? No, flying. I was flying. Up into the pouring rain. Why was it falling towards me? It should be hitting the top of my head but instead it was in my face. Sideways rain