Running gives me the freedom I need. The space around me is intoxicating. I sigh feeling for the first time in days the sense of calm settling over me. As I run I weave through people walking along the streets of London. I turn down the road up a hill towards the far end of Chelsea. The white washed row houses seem to gobble up the dark sky. My legs start to feel heavy just as the sky bursts open.
In front of me the street begins to narrow. My body starts to vibrate, from my run or from the cold biting fear creeping in my stomach, I wasn’t sure. I suck in a breath. My heart begins to pound in my chest before suddenly disappearing. The street narrows more, the lamp posts burst to life just as the sky blackens. I feel lost, stuck. I feel trapped.
I can barely breath. Water now runs in rivulets down my body, soaking my clothes. They cling to my soaked skin. Around me the rain drums and the thunder roars. My fingers grip my waterlogged shirt, grasping at where my heart is. I know it is in there, but I can’t feel it. It must be dead, like me. The world spins, cars honk. I stop at the corner to look both ways, my eyes blurry from the fat water dropping into them. I blink a couple of times. Look again to the left then the right before deciding to just walk into traffic.
No one hits me.
I walk slowly, my breath rushing through my nose and mouth. I need to be free of my clothes, I need to feel my heart beating.
I need Luke.