Wednesday, 28 December 2011

Keep Running

I run fast, as fast as my legs will carry me. I mustn’t get caught. I know he’s chasing me and he’s probably not the only one. I’ve gotta’ out run him. But I’m fitter, younger and I can not let him catch me. My arms power my body into the wind, the air is cool but I concentrate on my feet. I feel my feet hit the ground beneath me. I place one foot firmly in front of the other, focus on my breathing keep it steady and run and run and run. I ignore the hardness of the pavement as my trainers pound the grey slabs, as I power myself on, and push my legs harder to cover the distance, the ground beneath me moves faster and faster but I can hear the sirens. Screaming, wailing sirens, shriek as they advance towards the campus. The campus I’m trying to put some distance between me and the law. I dare not allow myself to think about her, examine what I did. I didn’t mean to… honest. I got so mad. I saw red. I saw red mist. She made my blood get up and then, there was no stopping. She doesn’t get me - I love her. I love her and only her. Stop thinking, keep running.

I can’t hear anyone, no other feet pounding the pavement, loud like mine. I want to glance over my shoulder and check. I don’t, I don’t want to know if he’s following me, close enough to close the gap. I just keep running. A sharp jagged pain grabs my attention, it tears at my side, vicious and spiteful. I clutch my side, Christ, not a stitch not now, as slow my pace. I catch my breath I begin to jog at a steady pace stop running flat out as the entrance to the walled garden comes into view. It’s just ahead, if I slip in quietly, will he see me disappear, will he follow? I scan the seats, most are empty at this time of the morning, people already gone to work in the offices, and it’s too early for mums with kids. A tramp sits on our bench, the secluded hidden seat under the arbour. We used to meet here every lunch time, just Susie and me. When she used to talk to me. I don’t want to share the bench with this dirty tramp. I need to be alone, get my head straight, work out what I’m gonna’ say.

‘Piss off mate, go on piss off, take your crap with you.’
‘Or what?’
‘I’ll knife you… that’s what!’ I watch relieved as the tramp shuffles away and I don’t get my knife out, but I feel it in my pocket. I like the feel of my knife in my pocket. It’s reassuring. I sit alone on the seat. My breathing is heavy, my chest aches I’m out of practice I haven’t run that far, that fast in a while. My hearts pounding, I take short sharp breaths and wipe away the sweat from my face with the back of my hand before it trickles down and drips. I know the police will look for me – what the bloody hell am I gonna do now? If only she’d stopped and if only she’d talked to me none of this would have happened. I just wanted to talk. Her voice keeps ringing in my ears, ‘I’m not discussing this…’ was all she said as she turned and walked away. How could she be so cold? Her red lipstick. I love her mouth. I want to pull her close, hold her fast, kiss that wide mouth, those lips.

‘Hang on a minute… I just want to talk.’ But she did not appear to hear me... my body tensed I wanted to shout, no don’t go, but I didn’t, there were too many people about. My feet begun to move as I broke into a sprint, I closed the gap and grabbed her from behind. Pulled her off her feet and back down the steps, she struggled but I’m stronger, she started to scream and then she stopped screaming. My knife was at her throat. Christ I’d didn’t mean to hurt her, I just had to stop her screaming, but other people started shouting. A couple of guys tried to intervene started to walk towards us, but I can’t remember what they said, I wasn’t listening to them. I dragged her hard, her feet couldn’t keep up, she stumbled but I held her firm, stopped her from falling to the ground. I get annoyed when guys give her so much attention. Susie’s gorgeous. I can’t handle it when other guys chat her up, don’t they know she’s mine? I simply can’t contain my anger, it grows and before I can stop myself my frustration spills over and I shout, lash out, and yell. I thought I could control my anger but I realise now I can’t contain my rage. I need to hunker down, hide from the world, and figure out what to do next. I want everyone to go away. Fat chance.

My knife feels good in my hand. The feel of the cool blade begins to calm me down. I run my finger along the blade, bloody hell it’s sharp, the blade slices and breaks my skin, draws my blood. I suck my finger taste the metal. I turn the knife over and over in my hands, the sun glints off the blade. I like the way this knife makes me feel strong, protected. When she talks to me I like the way Susie makes me feel. If only she talked, not walked. I move my hair from my eyes, the sunlight pierces my brain, it doesn’t matter that I had good intentions this morning ‘cos I screwed up big time. I’m sorry Susie, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. Oh god she’ll never talk to me again. Never, not after…I plunge the knife in to my thigh. Shit! Can’t run now. The jeans grow red, a seeping creeping expanse of red. God my leg hurts. But not as much as Susie ignoring me hurts my head. If only she’d just smiled…


Hope you like this piece not sure what to do with it now… any suggestions?
Tried to capture a self-absorbed, self-centred youth.


  1. You have an amazing blog! I love how you have such a different perspective on things!!! Look forward to seeing more. Happy New Year in advance!

  2. I'm imagining this as a monologue, read aloud at an open mic evening. Do you have anything like that where you live?

    Good stuff!

    Happy New Year