VIER
Even though the King had explicitly said not to run, that's exactly what I was doing. In through the door and up to my room as soon as we'd got home, I shoved draws of clothes into a small bag.
"What are you doing?" I heard a voice by my door ask.
"What do you mean what am I doing?" I asked, not turning round to see my father's reproving face. Instead, I continued getting everything we could possibly need for days on end on the road. "We can't stay here."
"Why not?"
"Did you not hear what he said?" I said, incredulously, spinning round to face him. His brows were furrowed and his arms crossed. "He said if I couldn't do it, he'd kill me."
"It's an empty threat."
I couldn't believe him right now. "And what if it isn't? What if I don't provide and he cuts my head clean off?"
"Then provide."
"Provide?" I all but yelled. "Provide gold from straw? Are you hearing yourself?"
"You can do anything you put your mind to, sweetheart."
"Not turn fucking straw to gold!"
I never swore in front of my dad but this was ridiculous. We were losing precious time.
"Dad," I said. "Stop being crazy. We need to go. Now."
"I have a life here, Eleanor," he said, like I was the insane one for not wanting to stay here and, you know, be murdered. "I can't leave."
"So you'd let me go alone?" I asked, suddenly losing my voice. "You'd let me be killed? What happened to 'I'll always look after you?' Or 'you'll always be my little girl?'"
"You always will be my little girl," he said, staring at me like that single phrase would fix everything.
"You lost your right to call me that when you signed over my life."
I picked up the bag and slung it over my shoulder. He followed me downstairs, bypassing the fishing rod and junk decorating the hall.
I hauled the door open, oddly not needing to put my full body weight into it; the anger pumping through my veins was enough.
I stopped just as I was about to walk out of the door. "You never did love me, did you?"
"Course I do," he told me.
"No," I said. "This isn't how you treat people you love." And with that, I walked out the door. I didn't want him to see the tears streaming down my face, so I didn't look back.
The house I needed to get to before I left wasn't far from my own... my old one, anyway.
It stood, sandwiched between two other which looked as higgledy as the next.
I knocked on the door.
"Ele!" Martha greeted when she swung the door open. "I didn't know you were— why you dressed like one of the seven dwarves?"
"I'm leaving, Martha."
She watched me, not knowing what to say. "Can I ask where you're going?"
"I don't know," I said, honestly. "I don't have time to explain but I've got to get as far away from here as possible."
"So you're leaving me?"
I couldn't let her think I would just up and run off, leaving her in this dreary village all alone.
"It's the last thing I want to do," I told her. "But they're—" my voice cracked and I couldn't stop my lip from trembling. "—going to k-kill me."
"I'm sorry what?" She asked, steadying herself on the door. "Who are?"
"The King," I said. My words were hurried and I didn't know if I was making any sense but I needed her to know before I, possibly, never saw her again. "My father met with him. They argued. He said that I could turn straw to gold and now the King wants me to show him."
"And at what point is he trying to kill you?"
"If I can't do it," I said. "My punishment is death."
"Isn't that a little extreme?"
"You didn't hear what my father said to him," I mumbled. "Dark and horrid things."
She looked confused, frowning so hard I thought she'd break her face. And for someone terrified of wrinkles, I knew by that action alone that she realised just how serious this all was.
"Stay here then," she said at last, opening the door wider. "Hide here. And then we can figure something out. Tell him it was a misunderstanding."
"They'll find me," I told her because I knew the second place they'd look, the first being my home, would be the home of my best friend.
"Well then let me come with you," she said, eyes hard and unwavering. In that moment, I didn't realise how much you could love someone. I thought my heart would swell to the size of my head and just burst cleanly out of my chest. "Mum'll understand."
"You can't leave her," I said. "I know how much you argue. But you can't leave her. She loves you so much. You can't lose that." Trust me, I wanted to say. Trust the girl who's own father left her to die. "And I won't let you endanger yourself. They'll kill you, too, Martha. For helping me run, they'll kill you. I'm not dragging you into my mess." Or my father's.
"Please, promise me you'll be careful." I'd never seen Martha cry about something real. Films and books were another story. But I'd never seen her cry because of something that was happening in the real world. And yet, her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. "Promise me you'll be safe."
I couldn't promise anything, I knew that. So I did what my father always did. I skirted around it. "I love you so much. I don't want you to ever forget it."
"I love you, too," she said, colliding into me as she launched into a hug. She squeezed me so tight I almost couldn't breathe, but I didn't want to tell her to loosen up. It was exactly why I needed, just as it was to her. "Wear those red knickers. Something to remember me by."
I laughed, despite myself. "I'll remember you with or without the lingerie."
I didn't tell her that I was already wearing them. That I'd had the same thing in mind before I left home. It was so ridiculous and even a little gross but I just couldn't care less. Physically, I didn't have it in me to care any less.
"Please," she said, pulling away from me and staring at me, straight on. Her cheeks were stained with tears. And just as I noticed, another fat one rolled down her slightly pinkish skin.
"Okay," I said. "For you, I will."
She squeezed the life out of me again before pulling away and wiping roughly at her cheeks.
"I hate you for this, you know," she said gesturing at her now haggard appearance. She wouldn't have it if I told her she still looked gorgeous, even if it was the truth. Her lip wobbled violently and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders one last time. "I hate you so much."
"I know," I whispered into her hair, breathing her in one last time. "I know."
She watched me all the way down the road. And then, when I turned back to look, she gave me one last wave before closing the door.
. . .
I didn't know how long I'd been walking, using the trees as a cover from the prying eyes below. Only, that my back was aching so much I could hardly put one foot in front of the other and I no longer recognised any of my surrounding and hadn't done for several miles.
They would know I was missing by now. They'd be on my tail, tracking me down. I didn't no how much time I had left but I knew it couldn't be long.
The crunch beneath my feet was my only company. Even this deep into the woods, the birds no longer seemed happy and jolly. Instead, there was the occasional flutter of wings and shaking of leaves and nothing else.
I hugged my jacket tighter around me as the temperature continued to drop.
A crackle was heard above my head. I turned to look at it, groaning when I saw the darkening clouds cloaking the sky, shielding me from the light until I could hardly see my hands.
"Please, don't," I said into the air.
Whoever controlled the weather didn't seem to be listening or maybe they had a personal vendetta against me for whatever reason because a second later, the heavens had opened. I was hit, tirelessly, with round after round of pellets of rain. They sliced through the air like bullets, propelling themselves into me with enough force to leave a good many bruises.
I had nowhere to seek cover. So, I had to keep walking.
My feet squelched into my shoes, drowning in rain water. Everything about me felt drowned as water droplets fell down my cheeks, blinding me as they fell into my eyes. My hair was matted and stuck to my head, making me shiver as the wind made the water feel even colder. I was well and truly soaked through.
A rustle to my left caught my attention.
I looked at the tree as it shook and not from the wind.
Just an animal, just an animal.
I tried not to freak out, I really did. But that's very difficult when you're paranoid enough as it is with the whole 'the King wants to murder me' thing.
Attempting to hone in on my senses, I almost found myself stopping. That is, until I heard a single squelch.
I drew myself up to my full height and looked around, probably like a deer that knows there's a lion approaching. I kept my eyes forward, feigning to believe the movement was an animal or the wind.
I hastened my steps as subtly as I could.
If they were here, I didn't have a chance. That didn't mean I was about to go down without a fight, though.
I sped up into a semi-jog.
A blur flittered out of the side of my eye.
I sprinted.
I dodged fallen branches, uneven ground and holes dug my animals. Like my life depended on it— which it did— I raced through the forest, hardly noticing the rain still pelting me in all directions, the wind not helping.
My legs burned painfully with each step but I refused to stop. Refused to let them just have my head.
Saliva was building in my mouth, clogging in the back of my throat but I ignored the urge to spit. My brain hurt from exertion or overthinking, I didn't know. All I did know was that I needed to lose them.
That all you can run but you can't hide resounded in my brain. I wanted to cry at how applicable it was.
And even running was getting more and more difficult.
My foot hit something, hard. I stumbled slightly but regained my balance. The pain seared through my ankle, making it throb and pulse. I carried on, gritting my teeth through the excruciating pain.
The clearing was visible. I could see light where the clouds had cleared a little just at the opening. Hills lay beyond it. It would make me stick out like a sore thumb but at least they would, too. I might have half a chance of fighting them if I could see them.
I was so close.
Just ten or so more lunges.
I felt a gust of wind, but it wasn't like the stuff I'd been battling for this whole time. It was created through movement. Numb fingers and a rattling heart, I forced myself on.
Something hit my side.
I went barrelling down, hitting the ground with enough force to break a bone. A weight landed above me, pinning my wrists into the wet dirt.
"Please," I whispered, eyes frantically looking about for an escape route.
I looked up at the figure above me.
Their mask covered most of their face. My worst fears were proved correct: he'd send a Mask after me. I didn't hear any footsteps so I assumed he was alone. It gave me at least a chance.
I couldn't look him directly in the eye. It felt like every time I tried, something clawed at me— fear— and I just couldn't do it.
I struggled against him, but his hands were like manacles around my skin, trapping me to the ground with his weight, legs on either side of me.
My limbs suddenly felt heavy and not just because he was using his entire body weight to hold me. They felt like lead, unable to move. Even my head dropped slowly to the floor, my neck unable to hold it up.
Something was sprinkled on my face, a power of sorts.
My eyelids suddenly felt like they were holding bricks.
"Please," I whispered one last time before they shut completely. The last thing I felt was being lifted from the ground, before everything went black.