Distressed Departure

A Story by Trillian

Eleanor's throat was as dry as her heart was electric. Her brain screamed at her hesitant muscles as she took off into the woods, powered by fear and adrenaline. Her muscles felt weak, but painless. Death. Certain death. Her inevitable fate was shrieking at her in the back of her mind but was faded by thoughts of nothingness. Her mind was blank. She only knew panic. Her stomach rose back up from her feet as she reached a sudden sense of familiarity. She stumbled as she tried to bring her feet to a sudden stop. Then, without skipping a beat, she gripped her abandoned bike, sprung it upright, hurdled on the grubby seat and shot out towards the open country road. Doubt was bubbling through her veins viciously, but reason kept her feet making the chain spiral in exhaustion.

Her heart followed the bumps of the tires as they lifted themselves onto the smooth, empty road. She wasn't entirely sure if she was in danger any more, but she knew she had to get away. Fast. As the forest became less dense she knew she was almost in town. The parallel cell phone towers guided her to the practically hidden sheriffs office. She toppled her weight onto her fatigued calves and allowed her bike to drop onto the shadowed pavement. The cold air froze the bead of sweat dripping down her jowl as she budged open the doors into a false sense of security.