February 3rd
536 days since
With the temperature outside lingering just above freezing, leaving home before the run rose meant a thick coat, hat and gloves. The grass frozen still under a layer of frost that crunched under every step; satisfying when there was no sign of snow on the way. Street lamps lit the morning world with an orange glow, and despite the time, there seemed to be no one about. Six-thirty often signaled the time when the few would be piling into their cars before their commute into the city, yet today they all sat silent, only the sound of shoes echoing along the street.
Chris bounced along, breath visible and heart rate racing, watching the world wake up around him. He watched lights flicker on in kitchens and curtains being dragged open with the reluctance of another working day. The usual winter fog clung to the ground further ahead of him, haunting each street corner. The sight was arguably peaceful but nonetheless unsettling. The thick fog reminded him of games he'd played as a child; thick fog bringing all the terrors of the night within its cloud. He glanced behind him and pushed across the road, frost crunching under foot. His journey usually took him along the streets, under a bridge plagued with the graffiti of the bored, and across the park. He avoided it most days, the unsettling and perturbed air making his stomach churn. Chris pushed himself ahead, picking up his pace as he crossed under the bridge, avoiding a small pace of ice from the night before. His mind focused on the muted sounds of birds beyond the park, the sounds of his feet and the world before him. He followed the path around the edge of the park, his eyes watching the play ground as he ran. The whole place made him feel uneasy and tense although he never could put his finger on why.
Chris continued his run, eyes bouncing between the path ahead and the tree. As usual, he picked up his pace again and propelled ahead; the less time he spent in the place, the better. His eyes caught sight of something to his left, lingering by the oak. He twisted his head to see and felt his left foot land incorrectly. As he fell, Chris felt his side hit the ground and his body roll forwards. The cold numbed the pain of the fall but it wasn't that which had bothered him. His eyes had spotted someone but they weren't there now. The runner heaved himself upright, his heart racing. There had definitely been somebody standing there; standing just below the tree. Chris forced himself to overlook the incident. It was just sleep deprivation. He was exhausted and worn out. There wasn't anyone there, and it wasn't Poppy. He felt his chest tightened, constricting and compressing under the weight of that thought. Two feet began their run once again, sprinting their way out of the grassland faster than it would have customarily taken him.
Throughout his journey home, Chris couldn't shake the incident in the park. He couldn't dispel his unease over the event. As he made his way to the school grounds, the sun already making its way high into the morning, Chris still felt the apprehension and agitation of earlier that morning. He stalked his way into the building, ears deaf to the sounds around him, before he dropped into his seat for the morning. He could see the familiar faces of his friends laughing and greeting each other with smiles and ignorance. Yet he just couldn't ignore the inkling no matter how much it concerned him.
Sat on top of the two tables in front were a duo inseparable since the day they'd made friends. Sean with his curly, mouse-brown hair, thick glasses and skinny figure, and Becky, a girl whose appearance changed as easily as her mood; how much her parents spent on hair dye, none of them knew. They sat in conversation, talking excitedly about some event they'd both frequented over the weekend. They sat animated, exuberant and cheery. They were close friends, good friends, the type to remind friends no matter the distance between them. They would have to be if Becky made it into the university she never shut up about.
