At the End of the Day .:. [Meghan]

It's days like these when I find myself drifting farther to the edge that looms so near. An edge that threatens to move closer to my feet that I am constantly running upon, the smell of death so near that it almost tempts my legs to move in it's direction, the sweetness of finally meeting my end drifting me away from this god forsaken path that I remain upon. From the moment I opened my eyes that I had just closed, where the rays of dawn just began to shine down upon my scarred skin, I was met with a man in white and the instant thought of run, run, run. Exhausted eyes were forced awake and numb legs threatened to collapse with each roof I landed upon, yet instinct kept me moving. Unfortunately, it's a normal day for me.

The buildings and shacks of District Twelve morph into an array of dull colors as my feet stumble across the roof tops, a tired mind and a heavy heart forcing my head to not comprehend anything that my eyes fall upon. Or maybe it's just the instinct that has taken ahold of my mind, my feet leading by memory in place of my eyes, leading my body to the smallest cracks in the walls and the darkest corners. I know this land by heart, as if the landscape has been permanently etched into my skin, like a map that guides me so close, yet so far away from the death. I can see the black figure's hand, though, held up for me to grasp, yet like every time in my past, the hand is just one step too far.

Maybe it would be easier to just lace my hand together with the cold fingers of Death, and allow it to lead me away from this hell that I am living. Maybe if the hand wasn't even closer to my brother, I would have already fallen into the arms of the cloaked figure. Yet here I remain, on a falling land that makes it a point to throw everything at me with the force of a thousand pounds, the weight of each blow seeming to fall upon my back and curl my spine, the words of stop, stop, stop stuck within my mouth and replaced instead with fleeing and dragging the weight behind me.

These emotions that inflict my thoughts fail to stop me from my mission, though, for I still find myself slipping through the crowds of misery-stricken people, managing to steal the smallest things just to get me by. Just to get my brother, and every other street rat within these alleys by. I blend in with the groups that move along the cold roads, for misery has been sketched carefully into every crevice, almost contradicting the careless attitude that I'm told I posses. The Peacekeepers always remain one step behind, though, managing to always find a trace of the boy that they wish gone with what seems like every fiber of their being. The main reason for their pursuit is simple: I make them look bad.

So it's moments like these, when the sweet sound of change in my pocket sounds with every step I take, that the Men in White seem determined to stop me. It's as if they have failed to acknowledge the fact that I belong in the streets... that the streets are where I am at an advantage. Maybe that's why they chase me so consistently right now, attempting to drive me to the edge that I skirt across. Yet I remain out of their grasp as I slip into the darkest alley, my chest rising and falling with the exhilaration of running from certain death. A smile of triumph and the sweat of exhaustion.

I find myself sliding down upon my back to the damp ground, my raspy breath sounding in my ears as I check my pockets to check that everything I've worked for still remains within them. What lurks in the tiny holders of my torn pants, a few hundred dollars at most, will barely be enough to buy the medicine that my brother needs, instantly forcing me to my feet in the determined mindset of one who must steal once again. I can hear the coughs of Hayes within my thoughts, the sight of his pale face and blue lips constantly lurking at the edges of my vision, forcing my feet to continue on.

The moment my feet find a trash bin for me to use as a ladder up onto the nearest roof, I hear the dreaded sounds that have haunted me the moment the WANTED signs have plastered my face across the District. A gun click, not one to kill, but to force me unconscious, sounding so quiet in the air it forces the hair upon my arms to lift. Instinct kicks in, though (the quick reflexes of a boy on the run) and my feet immediately kick off of the bin and send my arms sprawling out for the edge. The moment the gun sounds, I am already flying across the tiled tops, the sound of "I will find you, Zane Abel!" yelled behind me and echoing against the enclosures of my nonchalant mind.

A laugh of freedom - so strange, considering that I am the farthest man possible from freedom - emits from me, a care-free and easy sound that is music to hear. Exhaustion soon clouds my judgement, though, and I find my feet tripping upon the land. And of course, at the one time when I need my legs the most, I collapse and find myself tumbling to the ground below. The reflexes kick in once again and I barely manage to catch myself the moment I ram into not something, but someone. The next moment I am lying on top of a girl that I have never seen before, with the sound of pursuit close and echoing within my ears.

"Dammit..." I mutter quickly before getting up and holding out my hand to the girl that I pray I haven't hurt. "Not to be a jerk, but you really need to get up so you don't attract attention," I say to her, stuttering slightly in anxiety and bouncing upon the balls of my feet. Another crime upon my record: leaping down from the roof of a building to attack a poor, innocent girl. I can already here them coming closer. Without waiting, I grab her outstretched hand and pull her behind a corner, holding up my finger upon my lips to signal to be quiet. "Not a sound..." I say with an apologetic smirk, as a hush falls upon the the air.

I can hear them just around the corner that protects me. Just around the corner lies the outstretched hand of the cloaked figure that calls me to it's grasp. Yet eventually, noise finds the atmosphere once more, and the threat leaves to search more alleys. For a few more hours at most, I am safe. Yet this time, there's someone else with me... a girl that I've just fallen upon and forced into my run from the authorities. All I can do is glanced out of the corner of my eye at the girl awkwardly, and pray that she doesn't give me away.