When they do close I yank my dress up and practically sprint for my room, not caring how much trouble I get in. People seem concerned as I run past them, or swerve around them, but I ignore all their faces and keep going, ripping my hair out of the carefully braided bun it was put in this morning.
The second I reach my room I slam the door shut, then take the extra measure to lock it, even though the chances of someone coming in without my say is slim.
I don’t let myself think anything through, not yet at least. I want to be truly alone before I do that, and here, I can never really feel alone, not with so many eyes always on me.
I undo the zipper of my dress, quickly slipping out of it, watching as the soft material puddles on the floor.
Refusing to waste a second marveling at the dress, I move over to my dresser, and pull out the first thing my hands touch, it all being designed to match with whatever I wear it with.
I take out all black clothing, black leggings, black tank-top, black leather jacket, and a pair of matching boots, this time flats.
I enjoy dressing in all black. It’s dark, mysterious, unpredictable, just like me, just like the shadows I always run to, just like the shadows I have become one with.
I finish dressing quickly and slip my dark hair into a high ponytail before grabbing my sword, slinging it onto my back, then I grab a gun and slip in into the holster attached to my belt. There’s a very small chance I’d run into anyone, and even if I did I probably wouldn't need weapons, but I still feel better with them.
Standing up I walk up to the window placed on the right side of my bed and throw it open, inhaling as the wind rushes into my face in a strong gust. The palace we live in is three stories high. I sleep on the second floor, making it a lot easier for me to escape than it would be for other people. The thing that helps the most with escapes though are the trees, growing densely all around our land.
There were stories left over from the old world, a lot of which talked about what they thought the new world would be like. Overrun by machines, or plants, or sicknesses, people dying around every corner. They were right in some aspects, but for the most part the plants are here just as much as they were before. Everything is really. The only thing that changed was the world order, and what the people could do, but we’ve always been evolving, so I don’t see how that much has changed.
The plants have been being cleared though, for new settlements mostly. The trees and plants grow the most in the Unowned, one of the many reasons why I always found it fascinating. Fascinating and deadly. But I’ve found it’s hard to have one without the other.
Just outside of my window sits one of the many trees still alive, and I leap to it quickly, knowing exactly how to move down it after years of using it for my escapes.
I know no one will come after me, and this is perfectly fine to be doing technically speaking, but I still want to play it safe by going out the window and not the front door, in case one time it isn’t okay. Plus, if people know I was here the eyes would find and follow me, ruining my sanctuary.
So I’m careful to be quiet as I climb down from branch to branch, carefully lowering myself down when I reach the last one. Once I’m as close to the ground as I can get I drop, landing in a crouch, sending some surrounding animals scurrying.
The breeze hits me again, cooling me down on this warm spring day. I inhale the scent of the woods, savoring each sensation as the air flows in and out of my lungs, paying attention to each miniature detail around me, glad to be back in my true element.
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