Run, rabbit, run...{WT}

[Sleepy Fluttershy]

Pandora Wilde.

And I was running far away

Would I run off the world someday?

Sometimes there are moments when I cannot bear the tension anymore. When all I want is run as far as my legs can take me. Maybe one day I will take my sister and leave this place for good. But not today, not without her. Right now I am only going to run as far as a cool party at my friend's house.

Obviously, I am not allowed to be there at this hour. Aunt Neffie considers parties a prelude to alcoholism, drug addiction, and unplanned pregnancy. It's not that she is afraid all of this might happen to me, she just thinks all these things in my life will destroy her reputation when she runs for district mayor next time.

As for me, I only want to enjoy the company of cool people for once in my life and breathe. I am not usually fond of breaking auntie's rules, but this is my ex-best friend's birthday and maybe I can make it up to her by showing up there. I could never really explain to her why I don't hang out with her anymore. It is embarrassing to say that I am going to be thrown out of my house if we go for a walk together. And she thinks I am just ignoring her. But yesterday she asked me if I want to come and I said yes because I am sick of watching her laugh with other people and sick of so many people laughing behind my back.

I put three teddy bears into my bed and cover them with a blanket.

Sleep tight, fake me...

Opening the window quietly, I stand on the windowsill and plan my next move. Jumping down would be madness, but there is a tree next to my window. If I manage to get hold of that thick branch, I can climb down and sneak out before auntie notices anything.

I take a deep breath... and fly. In these few seconds, I am one with the fresh night air and a bright star above my head. And then my fingers land on the wooden surface. Grabbing the branch, I pull myself up and crawl down. When I am only a few inches above the ground, my foot slips and I fall down with a thud.

"Ouch," I mutter under my breath, clutching my foot.

I am sure it is not broken or dislocated, but it is going to be hard to walk. However, it is not the right time for lying around. I get up and run along the street, limping slightly, when my body collides with someone else's and we both fall down.

"Sorry..."

Nobody knows, nobody knows...

Lyrics by Aurora ("Runaway")

WT

[WT]

Two months into life in District Two, living around other people still feels unnatural. Lalik's apartment isn't too different from the one she used to comfortably call home in District Eleven—small enough to monitor, with an owner shady enough not to ask about documents she can't or won't provide—but after years on the move, sleeping in the same place every night feels more vulnerable than sleeping outside. If anything, every time she catches the relief of familiarity creeping up on her, the walls close in a little harder than before. Comfort, she has long since learned, is in itself a recipe for danger.

She compensates. Not having a defined, traceable routine settles her nerves a little, and every few days she checks up on a different supply stash, just in case. She sleeps dressed and armed in the front from of the apartment, where anyone breaking in would have to wake her up. Still, sometimes when she means to work she finds herself staring at the door for hours instead, hissing at the ferret when she makes too much noise.

Nights like that—like tonight—she always eventually laces up her boots and gets out. If she's going to be useless inside, she might as well burn the energy on getting to know this place. She explores during the day too, of course, but some places are easier to haunt at night, with fewer people to notice her coming and going. Bit by bit, one anxious night at a time, her mental map of that second layer of District Two expands.

Tonight she skims over one of the nicer neighborhoods, the sort of place with tall, clean houses where she could imagine Arcadia growing up. She didn't—Lalik would recognize that neighborhood, however short and however long ago their stint in it—but it has that sense. Rich homes are the same anywhere: turmoil stuffed into painstakingly pristine façades with just enough space between for people like Lalik and Cady to make the shadows a second home.

At some point, no doubt, she'll revisit some of these roofs and backyards as escape routes. For now, she slides calmly under windows and over fences and lets nostalgia sand away the nervous energy from earlier.

It's early enough in the night that the streets are thinning, but she isn't yet alone with them. Here and there a lone figure hurries home after a late night at work, or a couple wanders along on a walk. Lalik either ducks away from them or strides right by like she was born here, paying each person just enough attention to know where they are until they vanish down the road. So she notices immediately when she rounds a corner to find a silhouette running lopsidedly at her, and tenses her feet to run the moment she registers that someone keeping pace despite an obvious limp is probably running because they have to.

Her first step is barely off the ground when the silhouette rams into her. Lalik overbalances and falls back, barely catching herself on the raised foot. Throwing one hand out keeps her upright, but the final position forces her to scramble on the way up. Cursing herself for that moment of sloppiness—on another night, that could have meant her life—she puts her back against the wall and pulls her hand back in to draw a knife.

Up close, the shadow resolves into a girl not far from Lalik's age. Even on the ground she clearly has the height advantage. On the other hand, she's on the ground, and she got there by running directly into a stationary target. For now, though her hand still hovers against her hip, she leaves the knife sheathed.

"Who's after you," she says flatly, more an order than a question, ignoring the apology entirely in favor of scanning the street again. It remains quiet, but whoever is coming may not be as clumsy as their prey, and Lalik is as uninterested in taking off in the wrong direction as she is in standing here like an extra target.

[Sleepy Fluttershy]

Pandora Wilde.

And I was running far away

Would I run off the world someday?

A normal person would feel annoyed by such an encounter. Nobody likes falling on the ground, even by accident. But the only thing that is woken up inside me by the tough encounter with dirt is fear. It floods all my senses and makes breathing harder than ever. In this world built by aunt Neffie every time I break a rule her figure appears in every shadow, every human being, every tree by the road. It's everywhere - a threatening glance and a hiss: "no house. no money. Homelesssss. Homelessss. Homelesssssss."

She can't be here. This is the only time when I absolutely can't afford to get caught. It is the last chance to mend a broken friendship - and it was given to me when I thought there isn't a way back to what we both lost. It is too good to be true and there can't be another one. I am not exactly a person that is invited to every party because after I refused to come to a few of them and kept to myself for a few years everyone figured out there was no point in asking me to come.

I have to run. But who is this other person? Auntie is most certainly sleeping in her bed right now, it can't be her.

"Who's after you"

The voice clearly belongs to a female and is much more harsh than Neffie's. It calms me down a little because after the sweetness of my aunt's voice mixed with the things she says it is difficult to trust anyone's tender intonation. I can just say sorry. Run away. Pretend this never happened. Get to the party on time. There is still a chance to break the wall between me and Karen. Explain what happened after mom and dad died.

"Sorry. No one. I was in a rush."

And a part of me wants to shut up and flee but my voice refuses to obey and the rest of my panicked thoughts also come out in a whisper:

"But if I don't get out of here quick my aunt will notice me and if she finds out I sneaked out to a party it will be the end of the world as we know it and I don't want that to happen because I need to talk to my friend."

I wish I didn't say all that. Anyway, this is no time for small talk with strangers.

"Bye."

And with this words I jump up, trying to vanish into the shadows theatrically but wince instantly, holding my ankle and take a small step forward.

Ouch. That hurt.

Nobody knows, nobody knows...

Lyrics by Aurora ("Runaway")

WT

[WT]

Any doubt about whether the stranger was a threat evaporates in moments. She apologizes again, as though Lalik didn't hear her the first time; more tellingly, she stays down as she does so, apparently completely unconcerned with lying prone in front of an unknown quantity in the middle of the night. She was in a rush, she says, as though that's any excuse for this level of ongoing carelessness.

Lalik wrinkles her nose at that. If possible, getting herself knocked down now feels even clumsier. Inconvenient as a fight would be, proving she still knows what she's doing sounds therapeutic. On the other hand, she can't complain about hearing that no one else is involved. As she folds her arms and steps lightly to the side, where she'll be out of arm's reach whenever the stranger gets up, Lalik only bothers to keep her usual half an eye on the street around them.

The other girl is busy mumbling an entire speech, only about half of which Lalik catches—something about a shitty aunt? A friend? Sneaking out, evidently. If she cared enough to say so, Lalik could admit that she can kind of relate—her parents tried to keep her from Cadia toward the end, it's a dick move—but as it is, she doesn't even care enough to roll her eyes at the theatrics. The world as we know it, indeed. All she does is quirk her eyebrows upward as the girl finally launches to her feet and declares her own dramatic exit.

... And almost immediately lurches to reach for her ankle.

"Silk-fucking-sharp," Lalik hisses, reaching to grab the other girl's arm—still from behind, where she would have to twist awkwardly to attack, because she does indeed have the height advantage and Lalik doesn't take chances even with fools—before she can stumble too far. It's no skin off her nose if some inept teenager goes home with an inflamed ankle and can't walk for a week, but being here to watch this is embarrassing. A teenager in the nice part of town is this impaired by a sprained ankle? The hell kind of show have they been running in District Two since Arcadia took off? "Wrap that or something."

[Sleepy Fluttershy]

"Wrap that or something."

Nice suggestion indeed. But I can't afford to lose more time. So I make a few more limping steps, breathing heavily. I can survive this. Just one ankle, could have been worse. I shift the weight of my body to the healthy leg. Maybe if the second leg refuses to carry me, I can make it on one. It's better than making improvised bandages until sunrise.

"No time. I'll jump all the way there if I have to."

Aunt Neffie is sleeping. I can feel her snore quietly through the house walls. But what if it is all just an illusion and she has been watching me all this time to finally have a reason to kick me out? What if she'll run out of the front door and yell at me right now?

Shut up, fear.

I must move, so I jump forward again and again. I never thought jumping on one leg could be so speedy. Maybe I will still get to talk to my friend. After all, it is a very small distance to her house from here. I will make it. I wince again and stop to catch my breath only to notice I've covered a distance of maybe a hundred inches. This evil place seems determined to never let me go.

I feel the need to curse under my breath but cursing is unproductive and uncivilized, so I won't do that. I just have to focus on moving forward. No more looking back, and this weird stranger and the house of torture will vanish.

Jump. Jump. Limp. Jump. Jump. Jump.

I am strong, mighty and powerful. I am strong, migh...

"OW."

Mighty and powerful. I am strooong....

"Ouch. DAMMIT."

I sit down on the ground and quickly tear off a piece of my shirt to wrap it around my poor ankle. The clock is ticking, I have to be quick. The pain gets better with the bandage but it most certainly doesn't disappear, so I can't help but wince when I stand up again. 

[WT]

When the stranger pulls her arm away, proclaiming that she'll hop to her destination despite her continued labored breathing, Lalik lets it slide out of her grasp without a fight and throws up her hands. She said her piece. It's neither her fault nor her problem if some melodramatic teen wants to wander around District Two ruining her own ankle out of willful cluelessness. Blinking at her own walls and failing to sleep was less useless than this; she might as well go back to it.

Then the girl starts actually hopping.

Lalik opens her mouth, watches a few hops, and closes it.

She hadn't thought the girl was serious, but there she goes, alternating between jumps—which are, to her credit, reasonably steady and well-aimed—and a few limping steps at a time. By all appearances, she's genuinely determined to make her whole journey that way. Lalik trails a few paces behind, hands tucked leisurely into her back pockets, and lets half a disbelieving grin bubble to the surface. If nothing else, the kid's stubborn, Lalik has to give her that.

She could try again and suggest that wearing out her other leg will make the journey slower and more painful, in the long run, than pausing for thirty seconds now. But watching this is funnier.

In the end the girl doesn't make it far before she starts whining, with an uncomfortably loud "OW" that makes Lalik send a sharp glance behind them despite already knowing there's no one nearby whose attention they could draw. She expects her to collapse after that, and finds herself grudgingly impressed when she finds the wherewithal to sit down deliberately—and then, less grudgingly, genuinely relieved to see that it turns out she actually does know how to treat a sprain. At least she's competent at something, even if that thing is neither handling pain nor basic situational awareness.

Maybe she's one of those survival skills types. That's fair, Lalik supposes. Not where she puts her money, but it's where Cadia put hers.

"That'll save you time anyway," she says as the stranger stands back up, eyeing but not commenting on the accompanying flinch. "Should beat the heat death of the universe to your... friend?" Seriously, what was that monologue about.