|Running in the Past
Author: diesoz PM
This is about a girl who loses her way, but finds it again by looking to the past. It's also a RPF, real person fiction, involving Wentworth Miller.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Humor - Chapters: 11 - Words: 18,518 - Reviews: 8 - Updated: 11-18-07 - Published: 04-22-07 - Status: Complete - id: 2351197
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: The first few paragraphs are from another work I have posted here. But thanks to Twist130 who actually inspiried me to come up with more for the story. Please let me know what you think!
The pressure in the room built until Zenha was sure it would crush her. She stood and walked onto her back porch taking deep breaths. A nice walk in the woods, that would calm her she thought. She grabbed her sneakers from inside the back door and slipped them on.
Zenha looked to the sky as she came to the edge of the forest. The clouds she had seen earlier had grown heavy and now threatened to engulf her. She unknowingly picked up her pace slightly as her breaths came quicker. As she continued on her usual path through the woods Zenha remembered all the times she had walked here with him. As she reached the fork in the path she took a left knowing it held no old memories. Thunder rumbled somewhere behind her and Zenha knew the rain would soon follow. She smiled a little; a cool rain would wash away her sins. She turned her attention to her new surroundings with the knowledge everything would be back to normal in a few minutes.
The calming sounds of the insects going about their lives seemed to grow and suddenly it was deafening. They were talking about her; they were all talking about her. Once more her pace quickened. She looked around at the trees, the ground, the sky trying to spot the gossipers. The darkness grew as the rain began to cover her. The warm rain hit her face and it burned as if it were acid.
No longer able to walk, Zenha broke into a run. She had to leave; she needed to escape. How could everything have gone so wrong? Work had finally come to a head and she had been fired and her only solace had left her. Sobs tore through her as her tears mixed with the stinging rain bringing no comfort. How could he have left her like that? How was she to know? Trees began to grab at Zenha's clothing as if punishing her for some unknown betrayal. This wasn't her fault. A large spider's web wrapped it self around Zenha as she now tried to escape the trees. Barely able to see through her tears she couldn't see the path, couldn't even tell if there was still a path to follow, but she had to keep running. It would all catch her soon; she had to escape it. The brush around the ground had begun to help the trees. It was grabbing at her ankles, trying to make her fall. She stumbled but pulled herself up and continued to run. The wind howled at her, telling her to stop. The brush had not given up its pursuit of her and suddenly it grabbed hold of her and pulled her down to the ground.
Something caught her as she fell. It caught her and it eased her to the ground, but didn't let go. Zenha beat the thing that held her captive. She couldn't let this stop her. Didn't it understand that she needed to get away? She continued flailing trying to get away, but the thing only tightened its grip. Quickly losing her strength Zenha gave herself over to being captured. She expected the thing to tear her to pieces, to make sure she never saw daylight again. The longer she waited, the longer nothing happened. Her sobbing slowed just long enough for her curiosity to get the better of her. Zenha looked up through bloodshot eyes into the concerned face of a young man.
One look at him and Zenha was again overtaken by tears. She sobbed into the man's chest for minutes that seemed to stretch into hours. Her tears began to subside when the man began to move. Without thinking she cried out and held onto the man with all of her might. "Shh, shh. It's ok," he soothed moving her small, scratched arms around his neck. "I'm not leaving." Zenha felt the whisper on her ear as he lifted her with ease. "Do you still live in your parent's old house?" She nodded into his shoulder afraid to look him in the eye.
The man followed the path of broken tree limbs and uprooted bushes produced by Zenha's struggle. Zenha no longer felt as if the trees were trying to destroy her, the gossiping insects no longer chattered, and the acidic rain no longer burned her. Instead the trees seemed to part, the insects once again sang and the rain put her battered body at ease.
They soon reached Zenha's back porch. He stopped in front of the sliding door and pulled his feet from his mud soaked shoes. He nudged open the door and gently laid her on the couch she had left not an hour before. Her cries had become quiet, but tears continued to streak her face. He let go of her and took off her muddy shoes to reveal a swollen right ankle. "I'll be right back," he whispered to her. She heard his feet pound softly down the hall, before she heard the soft smack of his wet socks on the tile of the bathroom floor.
Her whole body ached and her ankle throbbed. She felt as if she were on pins of various lengths. Some penetrated deep into her muscles. Others just pricked the surface where dirt mixed with blood. She needed to wash her face and hands; she needed to be clean.
Zenha pooled most of her energy in order to push herself off of the couch and used everything else not to collapse when she put pressure on her ankle. She steadied herself and hobbled to the hallway. But when she reached the corner she fell into the wall, barely able to hold herself up. She wanted to collapse, but the drive to be clean would not let her. She clung to the wall nearly dragging her feet behind her. The clamor against the wall and her now audible cries drew the man from the bathroom.
"Z," he shouted dropping his arm load of first aid essentials. "What are you doing up?" He quickly went to her aid and began to guide her back to the couch.
"No," she cried. "No, I have to wash all of this away. Please, just help me wash this away."
Seeing the desperation and determination in her eyes he was afraid of what might happen if he told her no. "Ok," he nodded. He scooped her up and stepped over his mess and into the bathroom. He sat her on the counter next to the sink and turned around to turn on the shower. Zenha tugged at the hem of her wet shirt eventually working it off of her torn body. The man turned as Zenha began to struggle with the clasp on her bra. He gently laid his hand on her arm getting her attention. "Why don't we leave that on?" She looked at him confused; her currently one tracked mind couldn't see the consequences. "Trust me, you'll appreciate it later." She dropped her hands to the counter. Looking up she saw the small wisps of steam from the shower beckoning.
Out of instinct she prepared to ease herself off the counter. "Wait, wait. Let me help." The man put her hands to his shoulders as he lifted her around the waist. Her feet softly landed on the floor and she winced as pain shot up from her ankle. Shifting most of her weight onto her left foot she didn't notice the man's delicate touch still at her sides as she removed her once white Capri pants. A squeal escaped Zenha as he picked her up again without warning. Pushing back the shower curtain he placed her on the ledge opposite the shower head.
The shower pelted Zenha with warm water, but it wasn't as the rain had. Instead of stinging or burning her, the water soothed her sores and washed away the rest of the dirt. The man watched as the fear and desperation on her face was replaced with relief. Her eyes closed and her previous worries were rinsed down the drain.
Zenha finally opened her eyes and the man was gone. Suddenly she felt her body tense and the panic that formed in her heart forced out a name she hadn't expected to say ever again "Wentworth!"
"What, what's wrong?" He was by her side almost immediately.
"Where were you," she asked, her voice making no attempt to hide her fear.
"I was picking up the stuff in the hallway. Why, are you ok? Do you need something?"
"No, it's…it's nothing." She said quietly her mind finally clearing. "I just, I'm ready to get out."
"All right," he nodded. He reached up and turned the water off. He grabbed a towel from behind him and wrapped it around her.
"I need to change. Can you help me walk back to my room?" Now that she was starting to see things clearly she didn't want to be dependent on him.
"Of course," he said gently his eyes even heavier with concern. He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her to the end of the hall. He knocked the door open with his foot continuing to guide her to the bed.
"Thank you," Zenha said sitting down. "I, uh, I can take it from here."
"Right, right," he said not wanting to leave her alone, but stepping away all the same. "I guess I'll just be in the, uh," he motioned to the living room. She nodded and he shut the door behind him.