𝘽𝙤𝙤𝙠 #1 𝙑𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝘿𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙨 •'¯'•»
Growing up on the rough streets of western Sydney, seventeen-year-old Helena Callahan has always been a fighter. Her philosophy was simple: be sly, agile, and never get caught doing something...
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"Helena!" I heard him call out.
His footsteps echoed mine as I ran, but I didn't dare to look back. I figured that I could lose him because I had a decent head start, and the street was pretty dim. Most of the streetlights were broken, meaning that there was minimal lighting, and the moon was covered by a thick onset of heavy, grey clouds. My heart raced as I ran. Adrenaline pulsed throughout me, and the wind gushed around me with a whistle as my hair flicked back like a whip. Once I came to the end of the street, I turned down a back alley. Graffiti lined the broken fences as neighbouring dogs howled and glass crunched underneath my leather boots, but I didn't dare to slow down. It wasn't until I noticed a shadow in the distant end of the alleyway that I came to a screeching halt.
I started to back up as the image became clearer—it was him. Officer Faulkner. As if by magic, he had managed to circle around and trap me here.
My eyes widened as I started to turn, preparing myself to run. This wasn't the kind of area you wanted to be seen in talking with a cop.
"Go away!" I yelled.
"I'm not your enemy," he replied, approaching me with caution. He held up one hand as though he was trying to calm a rabid animal.
"Yeah, well, you ain't my friend, either!"
"Just stop for a moment," he said, closing in on me slowly. My back was almost to the broken wooden fence. I could practically feel the splinters brushing against my skin as a vicious dog started to growl in the yard behind me. Ever so swiftly, I started to sidestep back toward the direction I had come from. But this action didn't deter him whatsoever; instead, he continued making his way toward me in long, cautious strides. "I'm just trying to help."
"I don't need your help," I bit back, and then I heard my words. "Or anyone's help, for that matter!"
"Maybe that's true," he retorted. "Maybe you have it all figured out."
He was getting closer now, too close, and I started to contemplate the repercussions of attacking him. My eyes moved toward a plank of wood that was lying near my feet. It looked as though it had been snapped from the wooden fence that lined the alleyway. For a moment, I wondered just how much time I would have if I hurled it at his head.
