She is walking on the freezing ice. She doesn’t care that it’s cold. It doesn’t matter to her that she is almost bare. She is walking away from everything she had ever known, toward a better start, a better life. She is running away.
The mountains ahead of her are not getting any nearer but she doesn’t tire. She is going to make it. She is moving forward. A face rise in her mind for a shiver of a second, but she shoves it into a tiny box inside her mind. She is going to a place where the past is not allowed to follow.
Pain is a good distraction. She can feel her body crying for help, crying for her to stop, but she doesn’t listen. She can’t. She is moving on, and not even her body is going to stop her.
A few more steps. She haven’t eaten in a long time, but the starvation in her heart is stronger than hunger. She doesn’t even know that she is shivering. She doesn’t even know that the skin hangs around her body like laundry on a rope. All that she knows is that she is going to make it. Going to get to these mountains. Then, we’ll see.
She can’t feel her body anymore. Maybe if she could withdraw just a little bit further from it, she could fly like the birds above. Be free.
But the ground melts under her fragile legs. The sun gets out for a second and she is falling, with nothing to hold on to. Images float up her mind. Faces, views, words, get out of their boxes in waves. No, she was thinking, this wasn’t supposed to happen. But it did. As she feels the fight gone from her ribs she understands. You can’t outrun your past. In the end, it’s always going to catch up to you. This race she was going on was doomed. And as she let the images flood her, her body stops listening to her. She drifts away. Free like the birds.