Such Is Life On The Run Always Moving

Published Date: 02 Nov 2017

Running again,

Such is life, on the run always moving. Dust in my eyes tearing down the footpath, a familiar setting for me. The thumping of hungry feet on the pavement grew louder, amplified echoes resounding from the science block behind me. My mind is clear with the adrenaline pumping through my heart; the quite chatter of social prevalence carried by a light breeze, the dust and leaf particles falling through autumn, and me four feet tall running as fast as my tiny legs can carry me.

If a teacher saw us she’d just think we were playing tiggy, not a wavy haired blond kid with glasses running for his life.

I thought high school would be different but no, when life’s a bitch you get up and run from it. Through the jump from Primary into high school I’d been the minority, the smallest, youngest, and easiest to pick on. I’d graduated at eight, social conditioning held me back. It’s not that I couldn’t make friends; it was just that everyone was older than me and didn’t want to be associated with that weird kid that beat them on every test. Intelligence is my downfall and triumph. Right now tho, tree roots where my downfall. I could tell year seven was going to be a long year.

I’d just found my feet but it was too late, leaping mid-air I was grabbed.

"Got ya!", "Igor that little shits fast, hold him down!"

"Not worry I got him Jez."

I knew I was screwed but I put as much effort into seeming brave, "get your disgusting hands off me big head",

Igor seemed a bit shocked, "wha"

Gez replied instead, "you’ve got quite the mouth on you little boy we’re going to teach you a lesson for embarrassing us in class."

"Wow you guys actually caught him" panted Puff upon seeing me pressed into the dirt.

Glancing at puff I smiled venomously, "took your time tubby."

Looking up, all bullies where the same; double my height, that sadistic smirk on their faces, and their insistence on making my life hell. Gez was the brains behind the torment; he was actually quite scrawny for a tenth grader, greasy slicked back hair, pale white skin; a real ugly guy. Where Gez was scrawny Igor was the muscle his arms seemed to triple mine, somehow Gez managed to befriend this Russian student when he came over to Australia. Then there was Puff, he was amusing to mock but with a violent temper, it was usually not a good idea. I once tried to punch Puff I was nearly absorbed.

The fowl end of the toilet bowl, half drowned, panting I started to think of why this kept happening over and over again. I was just glad it was done for today. I went to push open the stall door… it didn’t budge. Looking under the small crack between the door and floor I saw a locker.

Puff must have heard me banging the door on his way out, "now it’s time for you to catch up." I knew I’d regret mocking him. I started to look around, I wasn’t tall enough to reach the top of the door even from jumping off the toilet seat, I couldn’t kick the door out the locker was way too heavy; wait no one’s locker is that heavy… except mine…. It clicked, bastard.

I tried my phone thinking of who I’d call, the orphanage would just make thing worse, and I had no friends, only my big sister could help, no reception. An hour passed I’d given up, there was no way out. Why me, in the whole universe, why did god have screw me up. My brain couldn’t even help me now; with my IQ of 134 I could not escape a toilet stall. Three more hours passed, inky blackness began to creep into the bathroom as well as the icy breeze. Sitting on the freezing concrete, top and hair soaking wet, my head resting against the wall I meditated listening to my saviour the bliss of John Mayer from my phone. I was in my place, perched high in the comforting branch of an oak tree, coated in the warmth of the sun, free from care and people. I loved the motion of swaying in the calm and gentle wind I could almost fall asleep.

The music cut off, my phone died and I was back on the solid concrete of the real world, a world that try as I might I could not escape. I started to cry, I couldn’t hold my tears back any longer. They joined the toilet water on the floor, pathetic.

Bang! I jolted upright terrified, where they back?

"Hey little bro, thought I might find you here",

"Sarah is that you?" trembling from the shot of adrenaline trying to wipe the tears from my cheeks.

"Are you okay? what did they do to you, oh no. Mika…"

She quickly sat down next to me, putting her arm gently around me. She began cradling my head pulling me in close. I let out a sigh as she took off my glasses and painfully looked into the depth of my blue eyes that mirrored hers. Slowly she brushed the remaining tears from my face. I felt safe again.

We snuck up our dusty old stairs, the carers couldn’t see me in this state; eyes puffy and red, soaked in water, knee grazed, and snot dried under my nose, if they got in contact with the school I’d also be the kid who grassed. Our door was open I guess Sarah got worried when I didn’t come home for supper. At least I have one friend on this planet I don’t know what I’d do without her. She had just started year seven as well but properly. Trust that with my luck we were split into completely different classes, she made friends, I kept shut trying not to associate with her, I didn’t want her getting bullied as well. I’d hid it this long but I knew she’d eventually find out. I watched as she angrily paced the room, nearly punching a wall but deciding better of it. Her Jet black hair with wisps of white snapped around as she interrogated me.

"How long?"

I’d slightly recovered, "Three weeks, don’t get involved"

"I’m going to kill them’

"They’re tenth graders, its worse than last time they have a tank"

"Jeas… tenth graders… we’re in year seven and they’re picking on us?"

"My teacher decided it was a good idea to advance me in maths, just to test me. I hate that guy." Resigning to give up she told me to get some rest.

I fell into an uncomfortable sleep that night. Crawling, scraping my way out of a dark never ending tunnel, a tiny spec of light lies far in the distance. Behind me foreboding whispers of satanic laughter follow me. Trapped in an endless cycle, not being able to break free. The toxic dirt is chocking me now, covering my eyes face and body. I wake in a cold sweat; the dirt turning into blankets, the spec of light glowing through a star and whispers of wind flowing through an open window. I sluggishly ascended from the dirt that was my blankets and looked out through the window. The cold air was nice on my tempered body as I gazed over our street. Great bulbs of light glowed from lamps in the essence of a lonely darkness; illuminating the deserted street. Shades of pointy grass, bushes and a black van lay dormant and isolated across the road. As if the notion of my gaze had startled it, it screeched off vanishing into the darkness. I closed the window and fell asleep with a chill running down my spine and the taillights burning in my vision.

Clack!!, One of our particularly strict teachers Verox had slammed his text book shut.

"Are you even listening Mika!" I forced my eyes open and pulled them around the room, cunning grins cut across the faces of the class.

"The answer Mika"

Quickly analysing the textbook of which he held; the title, the progression of pages, and the black board I narrowed it down to 4 possible answers, "The bombings of Singapore 1941"

Surprised he shouted "MICA! Wha, you were sleepi…" lowering his tone in dissatisfaction "…yes correct"

I really hadn’t expected that to work, unfazed I found myself day dreaming until lunch. Class was I time I could relax and gather my thoughts; I was probably the only kid in school who dreaded the bright sound of the lunch bell. Although caught, I couldn’t completely relax for a number of reasons. I left one side of my brain engaged in the rest of the lesson and worked on an agitation in understanding the dreams I had last night. I always remembered my dreams, they were usually bad but going further it wasn’t the dreams that were agitating me. I glanced out the window contemplating, something connected but I couldn’t quite grasp it. Dragging my mind out of the lesson I tried to remember what I had seen through the window a moment ago. It was probably a coincidence.

When I realised that people didn’t generally look up when trying to search for someone it was a life saver. I spread my legs along a branch perched lightly in the crest of a gum tree. The lazy sun sliced through the leaves that encompassed me, glowing in a beautiful green shade. I had bolted to my locker unnoticed and away from conflicts path. Yet conflict was drawn to me as a moth was to light. The glowing shell of leafs were pierced with the whistling sound of a footy, landing next to me caught it a tight cluster of swigs. I’ve always like footy, now- not so much.

A retched footy played had to look for his ball, "Oi look whos up there!!"

…And they knew it was me, "Mica chuck us the footy"

Word spreads quickly I guess, that or I’m just really unlucky, "Ahh so that’s where he’s been hiding", I cringed upon hearing Gez’s voice followed up by Igor shouting out in delight, "You are little bird, now plucked from sky".

They couldn’t get up here I smiled and replied by throwing the footy square at Gez’s his head. "ooff" not expecting Gez started swearing repeatedly and kicking the tree in frustration. I lay back proud of myself, relaxing.

"Alright screw this, let’s go get some petrol from the grounds keepers’ garage", I nearly fell out of the tree only humoured by puffs late entry. "What’s going on guys", Puff announced himself wheezily "we going to get some petrol and burn this little shit out of the tree", Gez replied snarling.

Puff just laughed and said, "Alright sounds fun," surprisingly Igor looked disconcerted "I do not this, too far" and walked off.

"Russians. Common Puff let’s get to the Garage before Williams finishes cutting the oval."

Shiiiii well I’m getting the hell out of this tree. As they vanished from sight I leapt off the branch swinging down onto another, the bark tearing through the weight of my hands, dropping now feet sliding down the trunk I landed on another as it bent with my weight. I loved climbing trees since I was a kid so when I landed in a cloud of dust I was slightly disappointed. I’d love to see the face of Gez when he realises how retarded he was in thinking I’d stay in the tree, still I had to get out of here they’d be back. Kicking up some more light dust I began jogging through the gardens, the air was filled with the sweet smell of blooming flowers and the moistness of an oncoming storm. Shadows began to disperse darkening the bright colours of spring. As I looked up the sky had rolled over leaving heavy clouds outlined between rays of arcing sunlight.

Wooosh; the sky disappeared entirely. I felt the harsh texture of a bag pulled over my head. Fighting inky blackness dispersed with portholes of light filling my vision. Of all things an old saying came into my head; "never, underestimate you enemies for they will not give you the same kindness". Igor… how could I not see this coming; I was blinded by a false sense of security. I honestly thought they weren’t capable of possessing the intellect to set up something like this. Thinking quickly I yelled as loud as I could, "heeeeeellll……" I was cut off by searing pain in the back of my skull, the particles of light seeping through the bag expanded and blurred red; the world disappeared.

I tried to move but couldn’t, confused I found my hands bound and blackness still facilitating the division of my eyes and the world of my surroundings. My neck and head ached like crazy but as the pain began to dissipate and my muddied mind brought into clarity I heard it. The sound of an engine, a car; no heavier, a van. I was in a Van? I was right, they weren’t that smart. I thought it was a coincidence when I saw it out of the window in class today. Flashbacks ran through darkness; the black van fading into the night, but who the hell would kid nap… me- an orphan? I tried to rip the tape off my mouth with the side of my shoulder but no luck. I finally found it as I tried my teeth, taking deep breaths I calmed myself, "I’m an orphan so you won’t get any money from my carers, please just take my wallet and let me out."

I flinched as a husky English accented man responded somewhere in front of me, "you are very polite, not many kids are these days." He certainly didn’t sound like a kidnapper; in fact he sounded calm and sophisticated, I cringed this was really bad news. It got worse, he went on in curious conversational tone "…and they’ve usually started screaming by now."

I replied, "I’m having a really bad week, It is not that I am not that scared it is just that I don’t care," I remained calm trying to resist giving him what he wanted.

"I know; that is that you’re an orphan and are having a bad week, and for that I’m sorry about knocking you out but it had to be done, I’ll get that bag off you," I was surprised by the sincerity of his voice.

My eyes adjusted and the interior of the van came into view; I wasn’t too surprised, wires danced under the side of a table, monitors and tracking devices where embedded and mounted onto the sides of the van, my eyes widened as I saw a weapons rack strewed with silenced pistols and revolvers.

This was bad, I had a feeling someone was following me, a tiny warning light flickering in the back of my mind- it was burning into it now. These guys couldn’t be kid nappers. The voice had sounded like it had come from in front of me but there was no one there. I tried to break his shell,

"I’m sorry too, well not really. Were in a black van, heading north, and I’ve been knocked out for approximately 27 minutes, we’re on a flat gradient, and judging by our speed through the sound in your window where on Aubrie high way… I just texted that to everyone I know." Usually, this is where I get smashed in the eye with some sort of physical object- frequently fists.

I tensed as he replied unaffectedly, "hahahaha, just like your Dad, sorry to disappoint you but your sim card has be taken out of your phone and destroyed." I followed the trail of his voice and only then did I see the black outline of a man leaning against the corner of the van.

My Dad? I could hear it in the tone of his voice almost like respect, never in my life had I heard respect in the voice of someone I was trying to mock. I’d never met my dad he died before I was born; my mother had told me he’d been in bar fight that went wrong I was 5 so I hadn’t understood. Shortly after my mother had disappeared as well although, this time no reason came and I found myself subjugated to The Parents of Many Orphanage.

I stared him down, he was wearing a sort of black fabric that seemed to ripple and reflect the surrounding of the van whilst remaining tangible and realistic. It was kind of like looking through someone, giving the impression of a chameleon. I caught a brief glance at his face through the flicker of a monitor. I saw confidence and pride but also sorrow and hardship, a strong jawline and symmetrical gaunt balance off put by three long gashes. They ran downwards surrounding his left eye, the scars fading through the cheek. As he stepped forward his features became clearer, grey and black hair met his eyes which reflected those of my deep blue ones, not in colour but in some sort agreement. His pale green eyes had faded with age but like mine they reflected a secret perspective of the world. Trust didn’t come naturally to me, and neither did genuineness.

"Well I’m Mica, I don’t believe you kidnapping me so if you could be a gentleman and tell me where we’re going it would be much appreciated.

"Ah… hmm, I can’t tell you we’re where going exactly but I can say that you actually might like it, I know I did."