Manic

There were probably onlookers wondering 'what the hell is this girl doing?'
I wouldn't blame them, i would probably do the same if i saw a strange girl, who probably seemed young, standing in the middle of a road. Completely drenched, almost certainly freezing, and obviously unhappy.
Violent sobs shook my shoulders.
And i waited for an oncomming car to smash my body to the pavement and tear my pain away.
Voices in my head screamed at me, telling me this wasn't right.
I searched my mind for logic, for the reason there was tension in my muscles trying to push me from the road.
My memories flashed pictures of my parents face's, kissing my head on my birthday, hugging me before school, reminding me that they loved me, that everything will be better one day.

I loved them too, but.. this pain, this unbearable pain that seemed to replace my blood as it pulsed through my veins and filled my heart with such a hate for myself, and for this life, that i could hardly think otherwise. Even though i knew, and this was probably not conciously in this momment, that logic continued to ligner somewhere in my brain.

The tension in my muscles increased as more images flashed through my mind.
Finally it stopped at a recent news report i had watched on television a few weeks ago, something that shocked me, something that made me unable to sleep for nights.

A sixteen year old boy had been out driving, on his learners permit of course, with his mother sitting to his left intstructing him.
He had said, in the interview with the reporter, that he had not been an incredibly talented driver, and that his mother has encouraged him to keep trying.
I remembered that at this point, a tear left his eye. And then another, until they were a constant flow down his pale cheeks.
"I...I...I lost control" He had said, his hands covering most of his face. "I saw her, i tried to stop, i t-tried to s...s...swerve"
The reporter had attempted to comfort the poor boy by patting him on the back.
The boy, barely a year younger than myself, had killed a women who was standing on the road, attempting to pick up a coin she had dropped whilst crossing.

He had not seen the read light, he was only sixteen, he wasn't even experienced, he didn't want to drive. And yet he had to live with what people were calling murder for the rest of his life.
I remembered the boys face, as i heard the wheels of a car turn a corner and begin to head towards my direction.
My muscles tensed for an instant.
And then again, i was running. Slapping my feet against the concrete as fast as i could.
I could not cause someone that kind of pain.
I could not let someone think they murdered me, i couldn't let them live with that sort of guilt for their entire life.

If i was going to do this, I would have to do it in someway that would not involve others.

My mind flashed the faces of my parents again, and i tried to push them into the darkest corner of my mind.

I continued running, as exhausted as i felt, i continued to push.