Running.

The girl sat in the garden. She was crying. Huge sobs racked her chest. 

The tears raced down, from her emerald green eyes, over her perfect cheeks, before plunging to the floor. Their life was short and tragically beautiful. From the moment they where born the tear drops where destined to die. 

The girl lifted her head, her auburn hair flopped over her face. She raised one hand and roughly shoved it behind her ear. The tears kept flowing, but no longer did the sobs cause her to shake. 

 

Her emerald eyes shone with pain, hatred and anger. The set of her jaw showed to anyone that could see this girl, she was determined to finish this. Her whole body was ready to fight. Yet the tears kept falling. 

What made this girl, so strong, so brave, cry?

 

She stood up. The tears flew faster, further, on their kamikaze mission. She took one shaky step, then another. Soon she was running, running from everything. She ran past her house, past her street, past her school and past everything she'd ever known. 

She ran to feel the burn of running. She ran to feel the pain that her numbed mind wouldn't feel. She was running because all her pain was internal, and she wanted it to show.