Running Cpt. 1

"No, Mom," I said with a sigh, brushing my hair back from my face. She stared at me as I ran my fingers over my scalp, looking at me as if she were dissatisfied. "So I got a bad grade on a test?" I continued. "So what?" My tone was dismissive, but inside I was dying. Ever since that grade had come back I knew this was coming, and the anticipation was almost worse than the responsibility talk I was in the middle of.

My mother breathed in deeply, my signal to try and tune out. Not like I had been successful with that before, but it couldn't hurt to try, right? "I just don't understand it, Samantha," she said quietly, in that oh-so-annoying tone of disappointment.

"It's Sam," I said through gritted teeth. She couldn't even get my name right, but of course that was my fault too.

She continued as if I had said nothing; it was a flaw of mine in her eyes, wanting to be called this nickname. It was too masculine for her, and didn't suit a lady (even if that lady was someone like me). "When you were young you cared about schoolwork. I understood you then. Now you're so… rebellious, lazy. You just don't pull in the grades you used to."

I looked away, hating the fact that tears sprung to my eyes. Her words hurt me, even though I didn't want them to. Damn my stupid emotions! "My grades are still fine, Mom, I still have an A in the class. It's just, this test was a little bad, that's all."

"That's all?" she fired back at me, her arms crossed and her voice raised. "You got a C, Samantha. A C! Did your father and I raise you to be average?"

God, it always came back to this. Yes, I was smart, but sometimes I hated it. Actually, these days I hated it a lot. I almost wished I were average, just so that nobody had any expectations of me. The pressure to succeed, to make everyone happy, was killing me. "No, you raised me to be your little robot, someone you could show off at your parties," I replied. "Not a daughter, an asset."

Oh, I had pissed her off now. "You watch your tongue, young lady," she said, quietly and dangerously. "If you don't work harder, God help me…"

"All I do is work!" I yelled, breaking. Usually I managed to control myself, but tonight didn't seem likely for that. "I work and work and work, and what do I get for it? I get more work! I wake up every day tired, but even doing my best won't please you! No, I have to be the best, or else I'm a failure! That's it, isn't it? I'm the failure of the family, and everything bad that happens is my fault! Your relationship with Dad, that's all my fault. Josh being mad at you, that's my fault too, isn't it? Everything is my fault!"

She glared at me, but said nothing to the contrary. I could see it in her eyes; she really did blame everything on me, this outburst included. Unfortunately, I felt it too. I would never live up to her expectations, but my guilt would force me to die trying. "I have to go to work," I muttered, grabbing my keys and heading out the door.

Getting in the car felt good, but I still had to get away from the house. I pulled out and turned onto the road, driving about a block until I pulled off. Parking, I set my forehead on the steering wheel and burst into tears. I tried never to cry in front of my mother, but the emotions pulling me apart were too strong to be kept inside. I sobbed, feeling all of the guilt and pressure tear into my chest. It wasn't enough, nothing ever was. My mother wasn't the only cause; I was doing this to myself, too. I didn't feel good enough, I hated myself, hated that I lived every day feeling guilty about not doing enough, not being the person I had the potential to be. If I could tell my potential to screw off, I would; but I wasn't able to yet.

Soon enough the tears started to dry off, and I wrangled my twisted emotions under control once more. I really did have to go to work, and if I waited any longer I would be late. It would be just one more thing that was my fault, and one more thing to feel guilty about. I started up the car and pulled back onto the road, headed towards the small town only a few miles away.

The way there was pretty boring. I don't like driving on highways that much, so to avoid it I took a back route. It took a little longer, and went through the middle of nowhere, but I found it less stressful. If anything, watching the winding road fly by under my headlights and meeting with nobody was actually pretty relaxing. I took a deep breath, leaning back in my seat. If I showed up at work all upset, someone was bound to ask me, and I really didn't feel like talking about it at the moment. Though I had released a lot of emotions, the anxiety was still there. I probably wouldn't feel all right until I graduated, and maybe not even then. So for now, mum was the word.

Suddenly, I turned a bend and saw some sort of huge barricade blocking the road ahead. "Shit!" I swore, slamming on the brakes. The car lost traction and I wrestled with the wheel, trying not to let the car flip over. If I got even so much as a scratch on it, I was screwed. As I turned it lifted onto two wheels, and I fervently hoped it wouldn't fall on its side. Luckily for me it crashed back down onto the pavement and stopped, leaving me shaking and hyperventilating.

I pulled my clenched hands away from the steering wheel, sucking in air shakily as my brain acknowledged the fact that I was still alive. Fumbling for the seatbelt fastener, I unbuckled myself and stumbled out of the car. "I was almost in so much trouble," I gasped quietly, looking over the vehicle. Luckily, it had no sign that I had almost completely wrecked it a few moments ago. Disoriented from spinning around, I tried to find the barricade and see if my car was in the other lane or something screwy like that. I looked on the other side of the car and saw that the barrier was no longer there. "You have got to be kidding me," I whispered, not believing my eyes.

In front of me, taking up the entire road, was a huge pair of knees. Not even joking. Above them stretched an enormous torso, and on top of that a rather large head. In basic terms, it was a guy. A guy who happened to be a freakin' giant!

He leaned in closer, placing both of his hands on the ground in front of him for support. The ground underneath me shook with the impact, but I couldn't move a muscle. I stood there, staring at him with an open mouth. God, I must have looked like such an idiot. His face lowered until it was right in front of me. He looked concerned, though I couldn't imagine why. After all, I was the one who had almost died. He was fifty feet tall, he could pretty much do whatever he wanted. "Are you okay?" he asked. His voice was loud, but not overpowering.

I nodded dumbly, and his expression softened with relief. "Oh, good. I was afraid I had hurt you. I was just crossing the path, I didn't mean to cause any harm." When I didn't reply he straightened up and continued, "I'll just go now, sorry for the trouble." With motions that shook the ground again he stood up and turned around to leave.

Finally, I found my voice. "Wait!" I cried, reaching out with a hand. Yeah, as if I could hold him back, but whatever. "No, don't leave!"

He turned around and faced me again, looking confused. "What?"

I walked out from behind the car and looked up at him with as much determination as I could muster. "Take me with you," I demanded.

Now he just looked shocked. "What did you say?"

"I said, take me with you!" I exclaimed loudly. "I'll be damned if an opportunity like you comes along and I do nothing. You have to bring me with you, wherever you are going!"

He leaned down, concern on his face once more. "You don't know what you're asking. I should never have been here in the first place, you should just forget about me."

I scoffed. "No way in Hell. You're taking me with you, or I'm following you in my car. Your choice."

He thought it over, and I wished with all my heart that he would just say yes. I couldn't take my life here any more, and this was just too unbelievable. I had to take this chance, or I would always regret it. "Okay," he finally said, albeit hesitantly. I smiled, but before I had a chance to say anything he reached out and picked me up, bringing me up to his height with a motion that took my breath away. Holding me in his two cupped (did I mention enormous?) hands, he took off.

Running.