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What's Really Inside Him
His heart racing reminds him how nervous and addrenaline-filled he's become, it only quickens when the sirens sound from just down the street. Blue and red lights illuminate his guilty face. Then he's running, before he knows it; shoes thrown aside and left behind to gain speed, but he almost wants to get caught, to feel like what he's done will mean something. He won't slow down 'til he gets to his destination.
A woman and a little blonde girl sit on the curb next to where their car used to be. The woman speaks frantically into her cell phone receiver, he can hear her, while her daughter shivers next to her, her small arm tucked into the crook of her mothers, and he remembers why he stole something as simple as an umbrella.
He looks over his shoulder, the sirens are getting closer, and the woman and her daughter seem far away. He takes his chances and silently steps behind the both of them; the woman is half turned his way but her eyes see passed everything, she tries to keep her child sheltered from the sprinkles of rain as she continues to talk at a climbing speed into her phone.
He sets it next to the womans foot as quietly as he can and immediatley runs for it after his fingertips couldn't feel the makeshift wood handle anymore. He only runs a little ways before he comes to a tall, iron wraught gate that seems to never end, the cop car haults on the street, the front two tires perched on the curb, taking this advantage, the two police jump out of the car and towards him. He curses one bad word after the other as he takes several steps back; he's only got one shot. The rain pours down harder, he doesn't feel it though, he's numb with determination. He hikes up his wet, baggy jeans and takes a shot, he leaps, catches himself on the cut off top bars.
They're below him now, jumping and grabbing at his soaked ankles, he kicks at the hands and pulls himself up with the new found strength he's discovered.
It's hard to balance on a wet, uneven fence, so he falls. It stings but his groans of pain are music to the ears of the two men in uniform, they climb the fence with skilled grips and years of training. The one still on the ground on the other side yells for him to stay on the ground, so he rolls over on his stomach, willing himself to stand up. The other man struggles to jump down from the top of the gate and fumbles with the handcuffs he tries to draw out. They fall and hit the ground with no sound at all.
The addrenaline was enough to drown the sharp pain in his back and chest and he's able to take off running again, not as fast as before, but fast enough.
He doesn't notice, however, that he can't breathe. His chest tightens and he takes shelter behind a car, taking a much needed deep breath.
In the process of looking for a safe way to get passed witnesses, he catches sight of the lady - her aged hands and face make him figure she's older than she tries to look, he wouldn't know, he hadn't really observed - and her daughter, who huddles closer to her mothers leg. The lady positions that pale purpe and white striped umbrella so it covers her daughter more, causing rain to drench the woman instead.
The smile she gives him is nothing short of "I know it was you" and he nods his head in acknoledgement. It was all worth the trouble, he hopes his eyes answer.
As he begins to walk away he see's the opposite of what he just left behind. A much younger looking woman tears something from a girl's hands, she looks about his age and her pretty face screams pain but she covers it with rage towards the woman who's got to be her mother. He only hears heated voices driwned almost all the way by poring rain and passing cars. The woman grabs the girls skinny arm with a force that couldn't be hidden. He winces himself as the girl grits her teeth and clenches her eyes shut to stop the tears from overflowing.
He pulls his hood up to sheild his curious eyes from the two people.
The woman speaks viciously into her daughters face and she rears back just as much. His stomach turns as if he's going to throw up, he swallows dryly.
He can't tear his eyes away.
He wants to help her too, but before he can decide what to do, the girl pushes away from her mother and takes off down the street, water spraying behind her desperate feet.
He's exhausted, soaked and cold, he runs though, despite his currents state, he runs. Runs in the direction he told himself he'd avoid for a little while, the direction he doesn't want her to dissapear to.