Hi, this is my first time posting on Literotica. I plan to make this story largely nonconsensual. This chapter is just an introduction, no sex, sorry! But there will be in the future, I promise :P! Please comment and let me know if I should continue. All feedback appreciated!
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Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. If you do it long enough it's almost like you're alive. My feet pounded the pavement with voracity. In, out. Up, down. Forward, back. Running is all about the rhythm. If you can lose yourself in it, you can block out the pain and be whatever you want. You can win out against reality. If you can't find it, if you count every step and wait for the end, you are sentenced to lose. The finish line is really your greatest enemy. Once you know where it is, your chances become slimmer and slimmer that you'll get there alive. Running is the only escape. It's the only chance you get. At least for me.
I lived in a small town, a middle-of-nowhere snow globe filled with middle class neighborhoods and pockets of poverty smattered throughout at the frequency of gnats on an air-dried bed sheet. Even the trees were of perfectly average height with perfectly average green foliage that melted away as the rest of the world froze up for winter.
But life here was sane. Everyone knew the expectations. The only murders you heard about were the ones in the larger cities miles north, west, east, and south of here. Kids grew up, went to bricked schools and then went to bricked community college. That's how it was. The buildings were brick and the sidewalks were pavement. Everything in between was nature's favorite green that screamed arguments against the so-called environmental crisis.
Of course, there were a few people who fell above or below the status-quo. Some smart, rich families went to out of state universities, never to return. Some people you knew in grade school dropped off the map and into jail or drug fueled apathy. Never to return. The peace would be disturbed with too many comings-and-goings. So you were either gone or you weren't. Either way, no one talked much.
As of this week I was officially a Senior at Gale High School. The heated, bored days of summer were newly behind this year's incoming classes, despite our reluctance to admit it. This summer had been fun. I'd spent most of it with Kat and Emilee, my two best friends. We'd hung out at the city pool, batting our eyelashes at cute guys in trunks and speculating what our schedules would be like and whether Mr. or Mrs. So-and-so would be nice or not. Sweet sun-dried sweat followed us home to countless sleepovers spent emptying the pantry and fridge. At our age, food was the friend and not the enemy. We didn't much think about getting fat, especially with cross country practice every morning.
Oh, perhaps the most important fact about me was that I was a runner. And not only did I run, I won. I was by far the best on our small team. I'd made it to state in my Freshman and Sophomore and junior years. Running was my ticket out of this small town which I despised. Every mundane detail was like a needle in the sole of my foot. Every semi-educated resident a toothpick shoved under my fingernails. After seventeen years of living here, I realized that I would die to leave. And in only one year I would.
Dreams of college swirled in my head. I was exceptionally intelligent. I scored a 34 on my ACT sophomore year. This news was like a godsend. It meant I had a chance. Running meant I had a chance. That is, until I didn't.
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I woke up with a gasp, looking around my bedroom frantically. The only things looking back at me were pictures of Kat, Emilee, and my dog. Still, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I felt eyes on me. I tried to calm my breathing while scolding myself for my ridiculous behavior. I laid back down gently, sucking in oxygen at a measured pace, my heart still pounding in my chest.
For the past few weeks I'd been getting these odd feelings. It seemed like I was being followed, watched, stalked. On my runs, cars with tinted windows struck nervousness into my being, causing me to pour even more speed into my gait than normal. Even at school I was not safe from my own irrationality.
There is no one here, Cara, you idiot! You should be asleep. You've got a history test and a race tomorrow, and here you are, three in the morning, sweating over a "feeling" you got. Shut up and go back to bed.
My inner monologue persuaded my eyes to close, albeit begrudgingly. The unfortunate thing about sleep is, the more you want it, the more awake you are. I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve trying to force herself to pass out into the oblivious world where time dissolved into the new day.
Relax...Just relax...
Yes, relax.
In the morning, sunlight filtered through my gauzy curtains like shards of transparent glass. I rolled over with a sigh, contemplating the day ahead of me. When I stepped out of bed and walked to the shower I gauged the freshness of my legs, trying to notice whether they were tired from last afternoon's cross practice. To my satisfaction, they felt lithe and springy as ever. While I waited for my shower to steam up the bathroom I looked at myself in the mirror.
Some may call me vain but I have an odd fascination with mirrors. It's not so much that I'm admiring myself as it is examining. I looked over my flat stomach and up towards my perky breasts. The path of sun-kissed skin was broken up by the tan line of my sports-bra, leaving my breasts a stark milky white in comparison to my tanned abdomen. I was about a B-cup, bordering on a C. My nipples were small and pink, and slightly pebbled due to the morning chill. My gaze slid up past my collarbone and over my long, thin neck. Its prominence was highlighted by the fact the my dark brown hair was cropped shorter than Emma Watson's pixie. I'd worn it short my whole life and favored the barely there razor-pixie look on my baby-fine strands. My face was round with petite features to match my thin frame. I stood inches above most girls around here, measuring in at about five feet ten inches. But I was model-thin, still wearing size 0 pants from freshman year. My eyes stared back at me from the mirror, forest green flecked with gold. My lips were small but plump, my nose pert. I would be lying if I said I didn't find myself beautiful, but it's not as if I reminisced on it for extended periods.
I whirled around as fast as I could. Something had been there, at the door. Looking with me. I'd heard it, or felt it, or saw it... but only an empty door frame was left to greet me. But I'd closed the door, hadn't I? Or at least half-way, right? In truth, I couldn't remember past the morning haze of my mind. Whatever the case, the door now stood widely open, gaping uncomfortably like an unclosing eye. I shivered and darted to yank it back, freeing myself from its oppressive glare.
The shower scalded my skin, but I couldn't feel it. All I could feel was quavering gasps pushing forth through my lips.
"Hi Care!" Kat greeted me with her usual sunny demeanor. In many ways she seemed much younger than either me or Emilee, carefree, optimistic, like a curious child who wasn't discouraged in the least by any of the atrocities of the world. Innocence.
"Hey Katerina," I used her full name, knowing it would make her grimace good-naturedly. "Did we have homework last night in physics?"
"Yeah, book problems."
Great, I groaned internally. I'd fallen asleep over my history notes studying for today's exam and completely ignored the physics for today. I yanked my book from my book bag and turned it to the chapter questions.
"There's no way you are going to finish that before class," Kat goaded, "it took me at least an hour, and that's not counting the three I couldn't do."
I ignored her, knowing that if I focused, I might be able to finish them in the fifteen minutes before class. I was fast. I was a winner. And I knew physics. Sure enough, the problems were for the most part simple. I wondered why everything for me always turned into a race before deciding for the thousandth time that I liked it better that way.
Emilee was my lab partner in physics. She was my twin and opposite at the same time. With long flowing hair reaching toward her waist and a curvier body than the boyish one I possessed, Emilee attracted a lot of the guys. She was socially smooth, unlike my usual aloofness. However, she did share in my logical approach to thinking and my love of running. We'd been close ever since seventh grade. And she wanted out as much as I did.
The rest of my day went as smoothly and boringly as usual. By the time the final bell rang I was on the edge of my seat with nerves for my race tonight. Even if I knew I would win, every race caused its share of turmoil and fear inside of me. When I raced, it felt like I was being chased, like I had to finish first or die. All of my opponents became my pursuers, those from whom I had to escape. This egged my strides on and carried me to great heights, despite the residual fear it left in my limbs. That's why running was always a love-hate relationship for me. It was both my talent and my curse. My prize and my punishment. My only chance to win or fail.
"Hey, Cara, you know Georgia is gonna be at the race tonight."
I nodded my head as Coach Chapton continued his pre-race pep talk, although so far it seemed more a lesson in discouragement. Georgia Jeter was my main rival in the league. It always turned into a sprint for the finish between me and her. I almost always pulled it out. But almost always was a lot different than the one-hundred percent record I wanted.
"You know you can beat her. You just have to relax and run your race. Now since this is only a dual meet and we are using it as a practice, I want you to go out really hard and try your hand at running faster at the beginning than the end, see if you can discourage her. I know you don't like to lead the whole race, but right now, our focus is not on this individual meet, but on the end goal of states."
"I'll see what I can do." I managed to gasp out. My breathing was quickening as adrenaline and pre-race nerves pushed my blood at record speed through my body.
In minutes we were lined up on the start. A gunshot sent us off. The race was on.
I sprinted out of the gate, wanting to get the lead my Coach had asked of me. I tried to slowly decelerate into my normal stride without causing my breathing too much strain. I just had to keep breathing, steady, slow, and everything would be alright. I kept my arms low on my sides, using them to push myself faster. I normally never started a race this fast. I preferred a strategy with more even mile-splits, but this would help me in the state tournament. No pain no game, I chided myself.
My feet padded across the grass. Sometimes I liked to reflect on how light and quick I could make my steps. Not today. Today, I plowed like a bull in a china shop across the fields, up and over the hills, over the ditches and holes. In what felt like an eternity in Hell, I ran across the halfway point. I didn't feel Georgia on my heels, which was a first. However, I still had no idea where she was. It was terrifying. Was I in danger of losing? Could she be right behind me, waiting to take advantage of my already-taxed legs and lungs? The surge of adrenaline pushed me forward. I had to keep going. I couldn't be caught.
Even my eyes hurt by the time I saw the finish line. My pace had significantly slowed and my breathing was labored. But the giant funnel of cones and flags seemed to call to me, and I made my final run for the end. I transformed into a sprinter. I heard yelling, cheers. All I wanted to know was whether or not Georgia was behind me, seconds away from surging past. In my fear I ran even harder. I bent over at the finish, gasping and begging oxygen to repair my aching chest. My legs were like grapevines.
My first look was behind me.
Georgia hadn't even emerged onto the homestretch yet. I sighed in relief, allowing the apprehension which had filled me for the last nineteen minutes to melt away. I grinned. Safe again. Safe on land without being chased. A winner today, so what of tomorrow? I knew the feeling of ecstasy would wear off soon, but in the moment I could finally be happy. These moments were why I had to run. For no matter how crushed you were on your lows, the joy of the highs made up for it.
That night we ate pizza. I'd run close to my personal best, despite my fast start. My coach was excited, I was relieved. By the time I was home, my runner's high had worn off and I was ready to collapse into bed and sleep. I quickly showered and ran a towel over my hair. Thank goodness my hair dries so fast, I though to myself. With that, my head was on the pillow, and I was out.
