The Writer - 1

1.

Escapee

"Elisaveta, wait!" I hear Roderich's voice hoarsely calling out my name. Yet I paid no heed in all that. All I could focus on was running, running, running and more running. To go somewhere else far from Roderich's shadow that haunts me in my dreams. To leave the place I used to call my home. A comfort zone, which I had no right to claim again.

The feeling of escaping continues to engulf me with its own madness. A circle of thoughts and wishes that encourages the fear inside of my chest. The thought of running itself makes me feel defenseless. I, Elizaveta Hérdévary, the strongest woman in the city, has broken down into a defenseless little girl.

A woman who runs away from the truth.

My heart beats rapidly, making a staccato beat in tune with my weary feet. There was no turning back. Yesterday is over and the world starts to revolve again. Spinning on an endless cycle, never looking back at its past. My chance was over and so was Roderich's. My decision was stupid but it was proven to be the best.

For me.

For Roderich.

As I took a right turn at the end of the street, my mind starts to race. Thinking of my past, thinking of my loving family, thinking of my friends, thinking about Roderich.

Thinking about my future.

I've always thought it was pointless to think about the future. Especially when I knew that my future was sealed into a lovely one ... with Roderich. But when I look back at my decision now, that lovely path disappeared. Smudging the image in my head and blowing softly into the cold air. Everything seemed pointless now.

My feet halted at the end of an empty road. The air was cold as it nibbles at my bare shoulders, slightly getting my attention to cover them up with my hands. The Goddess of The Night shone above me. She was surprisingly bright in a city that never actually sleeps. But then again, I stood in a very dark and empty road where the life of the city was far behind me.

I took my time to rest, leaning my back against a tall building beside me. My eyes shifted to where I ran from. From there I suddenly realized.

Roderich didn't chase me.

It made my heart crumble down even more. How ironic. I guess it was expected from an aristocrat that treasures his pride more than his love.

Maybe he didn't love me anymore.

I spit at the road in front of me. There was no looking back now, Elizaveta. He was forever gone. He was not yours to begin with. He had someone else throughout your relationship.

I took a step forward towards the empty road. Just to be safe, I checked both ways to see if it was safe to walk on the road. No sign of life. Not even a single sparkle of a street lamp glowing. The moon was my only companion for the night. My heels clicked lightly against the asphalt road. It was beginning to hurt my feet, especially after all that running. I walked slowly to the right, strolling down the middle of the road as if it was all mine.

Actually, the world kind of feels like mine for the night.

I cackled out a mad laughter. Not caring if someone actually saw a crazy woman with nothing in her person other than the clothes clinging to her body. Maybe I really was getting crazy after all.

My laughter died into small giggles of pity, mostly towards myself. It was funny how I turned into a stupid mindless bimbo ever since Roderich was all I could think of day and night. Everything was different back when that boy used to be friends with me. But that arrogant smile and warm tackles was all I could remember of him.

It must've been a long time since I last saw him. I don't even remember his name anymore.

The sound of engine roaring pierced through my ears. Followed by loud honking noises. I didn't even stop to glare at the object that was probably running to get me in a few seconds. My life flashed before my eyes. Making me remember all the sweet and happy memories of my life.

My birth, the first light that pierced through my eyes, tears of joy and laughter, a childhood friend, warm suns and tackles, a sorrow within my heart, a new meeting with another boy, our friendship, our love, our warmth. Everything suddenly comes into my mind like a movie. I stopped at my tracks before everything was black.

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I woke up to the sight of white ceilings and cream walls. It was oddly dark but there was a dim light next to me. The pressure of something warm engulfs me, hugging me tightly to something soft beneath me. It was a bed but it somehow looked very odd. My whole body tells me that I did not belong here.

I looked at the window. My vision was still blurry but even then I couldn't see anything outside. I figured it was night-time. The sound of fingers clashing against a keyboard pierced into my ears. It went on with a steady and fast beat. I finally realized that I wasn't alone.

I faced to my right. There was someone there, his/her back facing me as he/she continued to type. For a moment, I was glad. There was someone who I could talk to and explain the situation ... even if it was someone I do not know.

I tried sitting up with my right arm as support. My arm quickly fell down when an inflicting pain stings my head. It was a horrible feeling. My whole body felt heavy and my head felt like it was spinning in endless circles. I don't even think I can stay conscious like this. When my body hits the soft bed again, I groaned. It was an extremely painful sensation.

The sound of typing stopped. The person to my right turned to face me, but I still couldn't see his/her face. My vision was still strangely blurry.

"Ah you're finally awake. I'm glad you're okay." It was a man's voice that greeted me. So the chances of that person being a girl is immediately crossed out. The man stood up and walked closer to me. I saw a flash of light silver on his head, it was a strange hair colour. He stared at me as if I was his long-lost object. He had wine colored eyes, I had noticed, which made him more unique than he really is.

I tried to sit up again, but I stumbled down again in vain. The man sat close to my side and pats my shoulder lightly. He sighed.

"Don't force yourself to move. You haven't recovered fully yet."

What? Recovered? What is he talking about?

The question ponders on in my head as the man kept sitting close to my side. It was odd to have such a stranger sitting close to me but it was also heartwarming. He seemed like a nice guy.

I try to speak, but all I could hear was my hoarse and bearly audible voice. The man scooted closer to my face.

"Pardon?" he asked suddenly.

Before I could ask him any other question, I told him the first question that came into my mind when I woke up.

"W-Who am I?"