Followed

How is it possible to be like this? I wondered.

Rain poured down on my unprotected head. My eyes were heavy with exhaustion. I was tired from running away all day. I sat in a damp corner under a grocery shop's canopy.

It's hard being a fugitive. I was always on the run. Always hiding. I was afraid of being caught. Of being hauled into jail. Imprisonment would kill me. Not metaphorically either. It would quite literally kill me. And even though no one would miss me, I still didn't want to end up dead.

After all, there was one person who was under scrutiny. And it was my fault. So after I'm sure he's safe, maybe I'll let myself be captured.

Speak of the devil. There he was.

He was just a bit shorter than me. He had light brown hair which was sensibly covered with a hood. He wore only black. Or at least like it was all black, there was too much rain to be completely sure.

I stood up silently. I waited in the shadows until he had passed the shop. I watched him like a hawk. When he turned the corner, I quickly followed him.

He led me around the wet, not-so-busy streets. There was the occasional person and a car drove past every so often, but other than that, it was just us.

He crossed the street and turned into a corner. I followed.

I was shoved from behind and I was sent sprawling into a puddle in the crevice of the building. I heard the click of a switchblade. There was a burst of adrenaline as I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. I kept my face hidden, but I was grinning.

"Why've you been following me?" He demanded, his voice tight.

I couldn't help but snort. "Don't flatter yourself." I said. With that, I lashed out with my foot.

He didn't see it coming. He fell to the floor, hood knocked down. I stood up and brushed of the wetness from my hands. I looked at him.

Just before he recognized me, I saw a glimmer of fear in his eyes. Then the relief.