RockStar

Running

The streets are dark aside from the occasional night club lights or street light. She's alone for now in this tiny space. It's her safe place away from her house. A house where she doesn't feel safe. Where everyone is a threat. Here she can stay curled up as long as she wants and no one will ask her questions at least until the cops find her, return her, and try to get her to confess what's been done to her. To which she says nothing. For now though she is calm with her legs pulled up against her chest and eyes closed. No she's not sleeping, but rather trying to stay conscious for the time being.

The booming bass, the steady pounding of the drums, strobing lights, sweaty bodies, and half dressed girls are the reason they attend this place so often, that and the booze. The men in this group are almost always drunk. They spend more time drunk than anything else and they call themselves a band. Half the group is stuck at the table two of which are so drunk their heads are rested against the table. Two are on opposite ends of the bar sucking the face of some groupie, and another he's in the bathroom leaned over a toilet spewing his guts and squeezing his eyes shut tight. Oh yes this is their daily life because at the moment they have hardly any motivation to take their band dream seriously. Each of them with some type of past that they want away from. One of the men from the table gets up and he's surprisingly steady on his feet as he leaves. He's going to have to be the one to get them home tonight. He's the responsible one as always, never drinking too much and caring for his friends.

The night air picks up slightly tousling his dark tresses as he makes his way to where he's parked the van. From time to time the lights catch on his fair skin. One hand stays tucked in his pocket and the other runs through his hair. He watches for police, because his friends are rather incapable of staying out of trouble when intoxicated. Finally his eyes spot the van and he sighs with relief and moves faster to get to it. Once he's inside and started it up, he moves it from its parking space and over to the club they've been in all evening.

She's not concerned about anything. Not even the fact that she's worrying her brother and driving him up a wall. Not the cold air that nips at her legs as she runs through the night drunk and laughing at the top of her lungs like a free spirit. Her eyes are bright with some type of electricity from deep in her soul. All he can do is try to keep up with her and keep her out of trouble. She's all he has left in this hell he calls life. It's why he does what he does.

It's the sirens that have her up and running now, forcing her to find another spot to hide. That signature red, white, and blue flashing in the dark. The potent wailing in the background as she tries to run down narrow passages into darker areas where no one will notice her, but her running leads her to a brighter area where doors open to loud exciting places. Places she avoids so that the things that she experiences at home are lessened. She can hear feet behind her, multiple pairs, and the sound of dogs barking. They'd find her if she wasn't careful. Without a second thought she runs into the street. It's tires screeching, the feeling of her body being thrown back, and people screaming. Briefly the world stops and grows hazy before turning black.

He tried, he really tried not to hit her. But he hadn't seen her to be honest,wasn't even expecting her to run out into oncoming traffic. With a single fluid movement he's clambering out of the van, of the other members following suit.

"Shit, Mitchell, just fucking kill everyone."

Mitchell's not paying attention anymore. He's leaning over the unconscious girl freaking out.

"She alive?"

"Yeah, fortunately. Mitchie didn't run her down. She's lucky to just be unconscious."

" Aaron, you're not even over here. How would you know?"

"Oh Mitch, you worry too much. but if you must know her chest is still moving a little."

Sure enough, Aaron was right the girls chest was still heaving as she struggled to breathe. Mitchell sighs and glances at the older male with another worried look. Their entire group could hear the sirens. They now had an even bigger problem on their hands.

"This is...this is... Going to sound shtoopid, but lesh jusss take her."

"Eijinn, we're best friends and all but will you shut your drunk ass up!"

Aaron of course knew that his overly drunk red headed friend was right about what he'd said because otherwise it would look like they'd meant to hit her. And so it's no surprise that he moves quick to toss the injured girl over his shoulder and starts running. By then half the group is behind him and the van is no longer sitting in the middle of the street.

She's still running and giggling when he finally catches up to her. At the least she's enjoying herself though he's sure there are people who want her put into an asylum. A frown graces her face as he throws an arm around her.

"Ella, my darling sister, if you're not careful you'll get hurt. Let's just go home already."

The younger girl shakes her head and her smile returns. Before he can ask her what she's thinking, Ella is off and disappearing into the night, leaving him to try and catch up with her.