Ten.
Then, I run.
I sprint across the lawn, my legs pumping beneath me as my shoes hit the grass in quick, frantic bursts.
The bench comes up fast. I plant my foot on the stone and launch myself upward.
I hop on the bench and then make the jump.
The wall is higher than I anticipated, and for a terrifying second, my fingers scrape uselessly against the top.
Then I grab hold and pull.
Pain flares as my knee scrapes hard against the stone. I bite back a cry and force myself up and over, my body screaming in protest as I tumble down the other side.
I push myself up and start running.
My lungs burn, and my chest is tight with panic. The woods thin quickly, giving way to a narrow road.
I slow to a walk, forcing my breathing to steady.
I am just a normal girl out on a morning stroll.
I wipe my palms on my jeans and keep my head down, patting my legs a few times to get the dirt off.
After about ten minutes, a convenience store appears ahead. Its parking lot is mostly empty except for a few cabs parked in one corner.
I walk up to them, and they're all empty except for one. A cab driver is leaning against one of the cars, smoking a cigarette.
"You, uh, available?" I ask, approaching him.
He looks me over and takes a drag from his cigarette.
I'm sure he sees how messy my hair is, or maybe the scrapes on my hands from the wall.
"Where you headed?" he asks.
"34118 Sycamore Main."
"South end?"
"Yes," I nod.
He drops his cigarette on the ground and steps on it. "Alright, let's go."
I slide into the back seat and shut the door, my hands shaking.
The cab smells like stale smoke and fake pine air freshener mixed with sweat.
As we start driving, the reality of what I am doing settles heavy in my chest.
We start driving, and the reality of me not coming back sinks in and makes me sad.
I think about Callum waking up and finding the note.
Reading it and his face when he realizes I'm gone.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
