Prologue

Lewis

I was running. Again. The screaming of my calf muscles as I pushed for just one extra mile; the pound of my feet on the beaten earth; such familiar sounds that were almost comforting if it weren’t for one thing. If I stopped then I would die.

My breath came out in quick, short pants as I rounded yet another corner. I flicked a glance over my shoulder. Men in black suits with white bands were sprinting behind me. The Police were still on my trail.

“Damn,” I muttered through clenched teeth. “They’re fast.” I wouldn’t be running so hard if it was for a petty crime like stealing or something. But it wasn’t, and that’s why I couldn’t stop. My life was on the line; I was a wanted criminal. My crime: murder.

Yes I know that’s a bad thing and yes I know that I should probably turn myself in. But there’s still that one teensy little detail that everyone seems to be missing. I. Didn’t. Do it. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s really not my fault.

I swore loudly at the few people who kept on stopping to stare and ended up standing in my way. I wasn’t that fussed about the staring part. I mean I know my hair is pretty awesome looking in all its red and black streaky glory and, after all, who wouldn’t stare at a seventeen year old Goth girl getting chased by the police? I know I would.

I was beginning to get tired. No. Scrap that. I had hit and passed tired several miles ago; I needed a break. Desperately I shot a look behind me at the policemen and grunted. They looked tired but they definitely weren’t letting up. Another corner. Another crowded street. Then, there! A door. It was the most beautiful block of wood I had ever seen. And behind it were three floors or marvellous maze-like structure. It was perfect. They’d never find me in there!

I checked over my shoulder one last time to see that the men were now struggling against the crowd. I grinned and put one an extra boost of speed. I sprinted up the step taking two at a time in my eagerness to reach the door and bolted through it. Turning to close the door behind me I noticed one of the policemen glaring up at me from the mass of people surrounding him. I smirked and gave him the finger, truly defiant till the end.

To be honest this isn’t where my story begins. It starts at the beginning, like all stories do. It’ll probably have a middle and (hopefully) an end. I don’t know yet if I get a happy ending or not but I hope that I live to see it.

Enough. I will give you an opening, for this is not it. As all things do it started with a discovery and a feeling. Unlike all things this discovery had some awful and horrendous consequences. It was a discovery of madness and discord, and of self doubt. But alas I am getting ahead of myself.

It all started with the sense that I was not alone.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A very strong start to the story. I like the feel of danger and the desire to escape. Good to begin with action and then expand the reason and the purpose of a story. A excellent introduction.
Coyote

[Left this Sorry]

It sounds interesting :) please write more and can you take a look at mine? Thanks!