Senses

Her throat seemed to tighten uncontrollably, while her smiled became slightly less genuine. She acted like she was listening, but anyone who knew anything about her knew she hadn't heard a word. She stayed silent, only nodding occasionally; but the whole time her lips were moving: they seemed strangely dry. She walked slowly and deliberately, wishing that somehow she wasn't here, somehow that the next time she breathed in the smell wouldn't be strong, that somehow she'd take a step and end up somewhere completely different, that she wouldn't,t be in- Her shallow breathing turned into full gasp that by some miracle no one noticed. She wanted to turn away, to find some way to rip her eyes from the sight that met them, but most of all, to run away.

Eleanor Delou had never run away from anything in her life, part of the reason why so many had faith in her political career. So why was it now that she wanted to run away? Why should a door bother so much? Why could she only stutter the words, her voice thick and hoarse with pain, "I can't do this..."?

She ran away, somehow she knew the way out and didn't register the fact that she was grateful for it. There was only one emotion she could feel then: sheer pain. She didn't stop running, she couldn't she didn't want to. At that time, she wasn't Mrs DeLou, politician and youngest ever leader of the Conservative party, she was just a child again. A child with tears streaming down her face, in a place all too familiar.

Author's Note

It isn't done or finished yet and I will continue it soon, but please review and give me an idea so I am not wasting my time with a bad style in the first place, thanks!