Late Storm

Trey muttered something inaudible, although it was almost guaranteed to be explissive, as the blood began to flow through Bella’s body like a high-speed train, pounding in her ears, making it hard to concentrate on her plan to heroically get away from the cops and save the love of her life as well.

She grunted bitterly; it sounded like another cliché movie on Lifetime or something. Who was she kidding? She didn’t have a plan. The police cruisers were approaching; you could hear them getting closer by the second, echoing in the distance. She wracked her brain, searching desperately for any ideas at all, but all she found was that familiar, hollow, empty feeling that reminded her of school exams. But this wasn’t a matter of a passing grade, it was much more important.

Bella’s brain finally broke through its foggy state and heard Trey talking in a rushed, panicked tone.

“…And then we can get away from them by crawling through the McDonald’s drive through, ask for a soda,” he continued, talking so quickly that his words blended together into a mess of syllables, “ and hide out in the bathrooms when they come in-”

“Trey,” Bella cut him off, her voice surprisingly steady and calm, “Follow me.” He shot her a confused glance, but as she allowed herself to look into his eyes, she felt that fear was actually the prominent emotion running through his system. She couldn’t blame him; the cops were coming for him, after all.

She broke away from the hypnotic state the eye contact had put her in and beckoned for him to follow her, starting to jog lightly, not to get away faster, but to maybe run off the adrenalin that was pulsing through her body with each step. She felt her legs grow stronger with each step, and the shaking of her slender hands deteriorated. She felt a connection with Trey; felt him beside her, running at a very similar speed to her own.

They ran for a very short period of time, stopping outside of a very familiar home.

“We’re going to…break into a house,” Trey concluded, his face mirroring that of a Hollywood actor’s during a horror scene. Bella had actually let out a small laugh at his assumption, and his expression became quite angry. “Come on!” He said, his eyes shooting daggers in Bella’s direction, “I’m not getting arrested. I’m sure there’s somewhere else we can go,” he said, his face softening up a bit at the last statement, maybe in hope to convince her that he was right. Bella laughed again.

“The cops are chasing us, do you honestly think I’d risk breaking into a house?” She questioned Trey, who still looked unsure. “This is my house, and my parents are in the city filing for a restraining order,” she sighed. He looked sympathetic, but glad that he finally understood her thinking. “I’m pretty sure, anyways…we’ll go through the basement to be safe,” Bella concluded, checking for any signs of unwillingness on Trey’s part. He nodded, so she looked for the small windows around the foundation of the house, looking for one that would be good to climb through. “Ah, here we go,” she said to herself, taking a damp rock from the side of the house and throwing it forcibly at the window. An almost metallic sound rang through the two’s ears as the rocks hit the glass, sending a spider web of cracks out from the original point of contact. Trey kicked the window, forcing the glass to shatter into the basement, leaving a window frame with a few shards of glass around the edges.

“Ready?” Trey asked politely, motioning towards the window with one hand. Bella paused, suddenly nervous about what she was about to do. A million thoughts, mostly pessimistic, ran through her already-crammed brain. Say no, her brain was telling her. She considered listening to it, but the sirens were incredibly loud now, and incredibly close.

“Yes.”