Runaway

Dawn

Two weeks passed. She met other women who silently cheered her on. She swore that once she got into the city, pretended to be a man, got a job, and was earning a decent income, she would visit them all and show them she succeeded. She was free. It could be done.

She was getting close to the city. The jagged skyline of immense buildings got larger and larger as she ran towards it. The city was roaring, artificial, it was the last hurrah of the old world. But she felt the threads of hope and need and love and equality and freedom and becoming that prevailed even under the crowds and walls. And she knew that she could survive there. 

Her muscles were tighter. Stronger. Slightly larger. Her skin wasn't just tanned, it was minorly burned. Light pinkish red, just a bit rough. Her hair was frizzy. And she had cut it short, up to her ears, and it was almost impossible to distinguish that she was the girl that the police were probably looking for. Not when the police had probably never seen a girl this level of disheveled. Or at least probably, she though. 

She was so close now. A day of walking. Less. And once she got into the city, once she melted into the crowds, she'd be safe. 

She slept in a corn field in the daytime, gorging herself on the apples and pears she had put in her rucksack as the sun was inching up the horizon. She slept hidden from human eyes in the rows of corn. She woke up when the horizon was burning orange and  the sun was bleeding out as it was pushed away by the stillness of night. She felt her freedom. Terrifying, because of it's newness, but bright, burning, ecstatic, and stretching on forever like the sky. It wasn't just freedom, it was humanity. It was freedom to embrace her humanity. She was human. She was so much more, so much more than what they thought she was. That thought flowed and danced through her like a river, like a war cry. A hymn and a chant all woven together. She was a soul, not a body. She was meant to be respected, listened to, her happiness mattered. And she did not, did not, did not have to sleep in the bed of anyone who thought this wasn't true. 

The blonde walked on, walked on, through claves that were tinted with soreness but carried her easily, carried her well. They carried her though she'd always been told that they could not carry her quite so far, not quite as far as a man's legs could carry him. She doubted any man had ever walked this far. She could walk until the world ended.   The inky black silhouette of the city against the night grew closer, closer, larger, larger. In a matter of days it stretched up to the heavens in front of her. 

She had one bag full of new clothes, one full of food. She had wrapped cloth around her breasts, pressing them close to her A teenaged girl had gracefully cut her hair close to her scalp, but not too close. It had the look of a haircut that had been grown into for a few weeks. She didn't quite know if that girl was actually convinced the woman at her doorstep was a distressed man with a broken car or if that girl saw the woman as hope. Either way. 

Her blonde hair glowed ghostly white in the moonlight. She was so close. She braced herself for life. Her first act once she got into town would be to find a restaurant or bar or something that was hiring, and to apply. She knew how to do it, she had asked about it in her youth to apathetic older cousins and siblings. And one brother who was surprisingly understanding and explained everything to her. 

She wondered if she could actually survive pretending to be a man for so long. Yes, women were equal to men, were equally capable to them, equally intelligent and emotional and all that. But still she WAS a woman, not a man, and she didn't know if she could bear hiding that aspect of herself. She wanted equality, not identicalness. 

 But she remembered that even though the one or two men she'd run into couldn't tell who she was, most of the women and girls probably could. Their eyes all lit up just a little in a very illicit way when talking to her. Even when she was disguised, they knew. Because they knew pain. They knew hurt. And they knew how to look into her soul and not just her body. She could live with this. Like this. Hidden from those who were dangerous and a source of hope to those who weren't. 

A few hours' journey. A few hours left to go. She could make it. Should she find somewhere to curl up and sleep in as the morning light made it's way up the horizon? No. She was too close.She took a breath. Braced herself. Smiled to herself. Filled her chest with breath that felt infinite. 

The sky was getting lighter, lighter. The light blue horizon of almost-morning made her sad and she didn't know why. She could see the lightness of the sun though she couldn't see the sun itself yet. Soon the sky would erupt in pinks and purples and oranges ringed with light blue.  Soon the sun would emerge all bloody and bright. 

In tinted rose-gold she would emerge into the city. She would face whatever awaited her there and she would do it bravely. Wth the fortitude of a girl whose heart is no longer held back. 

And then it all came crashing down.