Renegade

by, Cassandra

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She should have been ready for this. It always happened, so why would this time be different? The mistake was hers. She let herself get attached, she let herself hope. Hope is dangerous, dreams are deadly. She'd learned that at an early age. No one ever stuck around.

The roads are dark, and eerily quiet. Nothing new to her. The dark hides her from prying eyes, allows her to move from street to street without trouble. She grasps the straps of her ratty backpack tightly, all of her worldly possessions tucked safely inside.

This time had seemed different. She'd let her guard down, and had nearly paid the price. Trust was something that didn't come easily. Trust was something that took years to repair once it was broken. Her trust wasn't broken, it was shattered. The pieces wouldn't be easily picked up this time.

Running takes it's toll, both physically and emotionally. She'd been longing for someone to care. She'd let herself need someone else, and it had come back to bite her in the ass. She'd learned her lesson the hard way. She could only trust herself.

Another dank ally, another littered street. This was what she called home. Home was a place you could feel safe. This was as close as she could get. Home is where the heart is, and her heart stays with her. She doesn't give her heart away.

She ignores the eyes following her every move. She stands out more then she blends in. Her once blonde locks, now stained a dirty brown, shine under the dim street lights. Her crystal eyes dart back and forth, taking in everything around her. She's used to the looks.

She didn't speak to anyone. She simply removes her backpack and sits on the ground, leaning up against a wall. She's been told, far too many time, that she's too pretty to be here. She looks like she comes from a life of luxury and comfort. Why she'd want to leave it for the streets is beyond them.

Money. It's the root of all her problems. No matter how far, how hard she runs, money can always find her. Money broke the fragile trust she had. Money keeps her on the streets. It's not something anyone here would understand.

She's been caught several time. But she's clever and fast, every time she's gotten away. How much longer she can keep it up is unknown. She's tired of running. But she cannot go back. She'll run till she keels over from exhaustion is she has to. She's not going back.

People can be bought. For the right price some people would sell their souls. Selling someone else is nothing. With money comes respect, comes fear. One or the other. Money can't save the soul from burning forever. Pain can be bought.

She's a runaway. A renegade. The name the others in this place gave her. Renegade. No one knows where she came from, what she's running from. She appeared one day, and someday she'll disapear, never to be heard from again. Not in this place.

She cries only when no one else can see. She cries for the things she left behind, the things she's running from. Things to come. People who come, people who leave. No one ever sticks around. She's closed her heart the best she could. She doesn't have much of it left. They've all taken a piece with them.

How much can a seventeen year old know about loss? A question she'd been asked time and time again. Age means nothing. Loss comes no matter what age. It's not something that only the old know. This seventeen year old knows enough.

She should have seen it coming. People can be bought. They'll sell their own souls for the right price. Selling a little renegade is nothing. This time seemed different. It wasn't. They wanted, they wanted, they got. For a price. A price she'd have to pay.

She closes her eyes. Darkness is comforting. Darkness keeps prying eyes out. She can run in the dark, live in the dark, stay in the dark. Light holds no appeal to her anymore. Renegade lives, and runs, in the dark. Dark is home. Home is where the heart is. Her heart is dark.

Life shapes who you become. The things you go through, how you react, determine who you will be. Life has made her into this. A runaway, running for the rest of her life. Once cowarding in the light, now standing tall in the dark. She ran for a reason. She'll continue running for that same reason.