RunningFromMyDemons. }} Open

[nellen]

.Rette Varga.

She was flurry of colour as she swept down the hall. Unaware of the many people in her way for she just pushed them out of her way. The corridor became yet another obstacle course to her journey. Or escape as it truly became known. Jumping the legs of arrogant strangers in their attempt to trip her up, her light body almost flew through the air. Rette had never been nor wanted to be normal, but today she’d felt that maybe her actions had overstepped the mark. Some selfish pig, another jock impressed by himself and no one else had tried to flirt with her. And then when she’d refused and made him look like the fool he really was in front of his friends, the guy had got angry. Trying to hit her, before grabbing her round the waist to stop her immanent escape after the failed hit.

Rette was a warrior in spirit, Kaajte her adoptive mother or Mom as Rette had come to call her, had always verbalised this thought and aspect of Rette. Viewing it as a memoir of Rette’s past and the strength she truly possessed. Rette and Panni had agreed that it just got her into trouble. A hell of a lot of trouble; with today escalating into a beautifully messed up example of this. As Rette yet again shoved a first year out of her way, she skidded to a halt in the middle of the surprisingly full hall. Breath catching in her chest as the adrenaline continued to pump through her tensed frame. Muscles contracting and releasing in preparation as Rette’s pale eyes stared down the follower. He was only a lackey and she could take him if she had to. Rette didn’t want violence that was the vital problem here. She never wanted to cause physical pain with the specific intent of that.

Tucking her blonde hair back behind the silk head band, she took a quick scan of her surroundings whilst simultaneously never taking an eye of the panting male. There was a door leading outside only a few feet forward on her left, trouble was in was also only a few feet from her current offender. Simulations played out in her mind more rapidly than she could take in their meaning. All ended in her capture. To anyone else in this corridor, the situation was a game of tag taken too far. They were right about one thing. This had been taken to far. But was it really her fault? She hadn’t wanted to be hit on. She’d politely refused his offers. But no, he couldn’t understand that maybe she didn’t want to sleep with him. This school maybe be special but it still contained the same type of people. Assholes included.

Eyes still intent upon the male standing warily in front of her, by a mere ten feet, Rette found her escape. Opposite the double doors leading outside was another plainer one. It led into a classroom, often neglected around this time. It was only used if she recollected, for orchestra after school. Hoping and praying she was right Rette in the few seconds she’d been in this stand off formed a plan. A useful soccer strategy she’d picked up at the last training session. Tightening the strap that held her bag against her, she took a deep breath and ran forward. A good thing about her strikingly skinny body was the agility that came with it. After two steps the lackey lunged forward towards her. Or towards the direction he thought she was taking.

A quick step sideways and he launched not onto her, but into a gaggle of girls. Their precise age and house indeterminable in the chaos that ensued after Rette’s magical escape. She continued to flee down the corridor, but this time taking the corner down one of the halls. It emptied out towards the playing fields and the library, like so many of the corridors in this place. However this time she was thankful for it. It wasn’t as packed as the last but no classrooms emptied into it. All that was down here were lockers and bathrooms. The same kind of things found throughout the vast building.

Continuing through the hallway Rette slipped through the doors to the library. Her heart not finished palpating yet, from the not so encouraging raucous coming from down the hall. Finally resting against one of the many book shelves Rette breathed in relief. If one thing was certain at this precise moment it was the fact that he or any of his undoubtedly numerous lackeys could not bother her in here. The librarian would have a fit, possibly the second one if she had been at the deck when Rette burst in.

Fortunately she wasn’t, she was over in the east corner returning a couple of dusty tombs to their original resting place. As she steadied her breathing the one strong thought that pumped through Rette’s head was her innocence. Arguments began to formulate before she could coherently process them. Adrenaline still soaring through her veins lessening in it’s ferociousness as she regulated her breathing. Anger now pulsating in its place. She was a fifth year yet still she was sent running by arrogant and upset boys and their lackey army.This was not good, so not good. If only someone would rescue me.