Harlow did one last stretch, checking her shoes as she did, before standing back up. It was a cool October gray morning, the news even called for possible snow. Snow- before Halloween. There had been a light rain the night before and everything seemed to be frozen over just slightly. It all brought a child-like wonderment to Harlow. Jumping down the few steps from the porch, she strolled to the gate. Opening it, she stepped out and turned her music on. Sticking her earbuds in and her phone in it's arm case, she started off the day.
Up until moving to Montana, Harlow had never owned a pair of running pants or a workout jacket. But she quickly learned that sport bras and biker shorts don't mix with forty degree weather. She wasn't given much of a choice when it came to her workouts either. The nearest gym was almost thirty minutes away. Ultimately she ended up heading to Target to update her wardrobe to more cold-weather friendly outfits. It was just another small thing she considered to all be a part of the experience.
Running was a form of therapy for Harlow. Ever since she joined track in middle school- it was a time for her to get lost within her mind. No matter what she did though- her lungs burned. With every breathe in the cold air made her feel like she was being murdered. In some twisted way, it made her feel alive.
~~~
Thirty six minutes into her hour run, Harlow found herself jogging along the side of a two lane highway. A quick glance down told her one of her shoes was untied. Slowing to a stop she let out a hefty cough, gulping in the cold air though it burned her chest with every wheeze. Bending her hands on her knees, she scanned her surroundings. Fall Out Boy still blared in her ear, and she would have been humming along if her chest didn't feel like it was falling in on itself. Bending down, What happened next seemed to occur in fragments.
The music was loud. Her eyes were looking down. She should have been further from the road. The music should have been softer.
A sharp force hit her full on. Her body seemed to float before making contact with the ground. She rolled, tumbling to a stop with a grunt as her back hit a tree trunk. Her vision turned black, and she was unable to move. Her lungs refused to work despite her brain screaming at them.
She was dying. She was dead. She had to be dead.
Suddenly, the air came back to her in a gasp and she forced her eyes to open. Though her head spun, she still forced herself to sit up. Looking to the road, she stared in horror. Forcing her eyes to focus, Harlow looked at the dark marks that were left where she had been moments before. Following the diagonal tracks, they told the story of how the vehicle had swerved onto the edge of the road and swung around- only stopping when it made contact with a tree a hundred feet from her. The pick up truck, it's tinted windows, smoked slightly where it rested.
She could have died. She should have died. She didn't. She cheated death; again.
What confused her was what force had decided to step in and allow her to. Looking around, Harlow looked for someone who would have had the reflex to react so quickly with the power to push her so far. She saw no one, but the hairs seemed to have risen on her knee once more.
Pushing the feeling to the back of her mind, Harlow checked over herself. Her rib cage was sore and from the blood dripping onto the snow she knew she had some sort of cut on her face. Besides those two things, Harlow appeared to be fine. With a deep breath, she stood and stumbled her way over to the truck. The driver, a man who was maybe in his thirties, sat slumped at the wheel. His eyes were closed and his face was covered in blood. Upon seeing the man, Harlow felt her lungs stop. Her brain was screaming at her to breathe, but no matter how hard she tried nothing came. It was only when her vision started to tunnel that her lungs regained the ability to breathe. Fumbling for her phone, her hands shaking beyond her control, she dialed 9-1-1.
~~~
"Now, just follow the light with your eyes." Harlow did as she was told, silently watching for any reaction from the doctor. "Good, good. Okay, your vitals are all okay and there's no sign of internal bleeding. Besides the cut that we took care of on your scalp I think-" The doctor was cut off by the door to the ER room swinging open.
"Low- are you okay?! As soon as they called me, I called into work and rushed right over here." Vivana, already in her work scrubs, closed the door behind her and apologized to the doctor for interrupting. The doctor looked to Harlow. "She's my next of kin." The doctor nodded. Viviana took the free seat, smooshed in the corner of the room. "No issue Ms..."
"Ms. Rosemond."
"Ms. Rosemond, now as I was telling Ms. Write she seems to be in perfect health. The injuries she sustained today won't cause any ill effects long term. She'll be sore for a few days, and we will have to remove the stitches from her scalp in about a week. Other than that, she's good for the long run. Let me just go get the release papers and then you will be free to go." Harlow gave a nod and thanked the doctor. Viviana smiled, and nodded her head. "Thank God, thank you doctor."
The doctor nodded his head, and left the room. Viviana stood and looked at her friend. "What the hell happened?!" Harlow adjusted the icepack on her head. "I honestly have no idea. I stopped to take a break and tie my shoe and then suddenly I'm flying. I hit a tree, I can't breathe, it feels like I died. I sat up and there's a truck! A white pick up truck slammed against this tree." Harlow's eyes suddenly glassed over, as she drifted away from the world. "Then, then the blood." She struggled to continue the story, and shook her head to remove her mind from the image. "I called 9-1-1. The fire department and the paramedics both showed up. They brought me here and I've had so many tests done. It has sucked." Harlow frowned at her friend, the last of her body's adrenaline leaving her system. Viviana just shook her head, and crushed Harlow in a hug. "I'm just happy you're okay."
After being released, Harlow walked herself out to Viviana's car. The drive back to their little home was short- not even a full ten minutes. Vivana was sure to see Harlow safety inside the house before leaving for work. Harlow, feeling gross from her run and from being in the hospital, headed up to her bedroom. Thanks to a coin toss between the two women she got the room with the en-suite bathroom. Viviana did not lose out though; she got the other two smaller bedrooms. Harlow took as good of a shower as one can when they have fresh stitches in their head, and dressed for the day. She had a quick meal, knowing that her work shift would be starting soon. Though the soreness was starting to spread through her body the doctor had cleared her to perform all her normal daily activities. That included driving herself to work.
~~~
"Ye want to make sure the milk is fully turned before serving it or ye will flash the hash. No matter how much one might think ye're gut-foundered, I promise ye be fine." Harlow let out a small breath as she focused on the dasher in her hand. By the time auditions for the next performance for the local theatre came around, her arms would be super toned. "When I really get into the motion, I like to sing a song...Come, butter come; Come, butter come; Tommy stands at the gate; With a hot jonny-cake; Come, butter come." The small crowd clapped at the end of her song, but she didn't stop moving the dasher as she bowed her head. "I thank ye, I thank ye all."
The small crowd then moved on, and her coworker; Danielle, came over to let her up for her lunch break. Harlow's arms were sore, and she felt it more so once she stopped moving them. She was also feeling the soreness in her rib cage- and her head throbbed slightly. Thanking Danielle, she left the small cottage and made her way to the staff-only space. Once safely behind the fenced off space, Harlow struggled to unbutton her historically accurate 1740's dress as she entered into her changing space. Underneath the gown, she wore the historically accurate under garments. Placing them all back in their proper place, she changed into her own clothing. Once she was satisfied with how she looked,Harlow clocked out for lunch and headed back into town to the local diner.
Entering into the diner, Harlow closed her eyes and took in the warmth of the room. Opening her eyes, she seated herself in a corner booth. She glanced around the room, taking in how lacking the room was of patreons despite it being twelve thirty on a Wednesday. She made eye contact with the waitress as she strolled over to Harlow. "Afternoon darling, I'm Cheryl and I'll be your waitress," she sat a menu down in front of her, "what can I get you to drink?" Harlow flipped the menu, scanning the drinks. "Um, can I get an unsweetened iced tea to go?"
"One iced tea to go, coming up. Be back soon to take your order." Harlow nodded and returned her gaze back to the menu. She and Viviana had come into the diner a few times over the past few weeks, mostly for breakfast, but maybe dinner every now and then. For the most part, Anne had been supplying them with diners and many leftovers. They had become very dependent on Anne; who stated she didn't mind. As she told them, cooking was her passion.
A few minutes passed, and Cheryl hadn't returned yet, when a group entered the diner. That was when the hairs on her arms stood on their end. Taking a glance from her menu, Harlow spotted three men. By a glance, the three men looked innocent enough. All three were dressed for the weather, and spoke amongst themselves as they took a spot at the bar.
Harlow did her best to ignore the goosebumps on her arms and casted her eyes back down at her menu. Another minute passed, and she suddenly had that extra sense of someone-is-looking-at-you go off. Swallowing, she glanced up from her menu. That was when she locked eyes with one of the men from the group at the bar. His gaze was intense, and Harlow felt her heart rate rising. She broke eye contact, looking back at her menu; frowning as she did. She did not feel comfortable, at all, and struggled to remain calm. It was then Cheryl returned, a to-go cup in hand, ready to take her order.
"So what will you be having darling?" Harlw didn't make eye contact as she handed the menu back. "A grilled chicken salad with a side of fries to go please." Harlow paid her with exact change, ready to flee the diner.
"Of course, it should be out in less than ten minutes."Cheryl took the menu with a smile. Harlow thanked her and was left alone. She squeezed her hands in her lap and took a quick glance back at the group.He was still staring at her, grey eyes forced intensely on her. Harlow looked away again, as she felt her fight-or-flight kicking in. She dug her phone out, sending a quick text to Viviana.
I'm at the diner and there is this random dude staring me down.
Her phone dinged, and Viviana's response popped up. Wth? What does he look like?
Harlow didn't want to glance at the phone. She didn't want the man to know that she was talking about him. All she wanted was to leave and go home- where she felt safe. Her response was more of what she could remember in those few moments that she had looked at him.
Light skin, I would say he falls somewhere in the 'natural' skin tone for foundation. He seems fit but he hasn't taken his jacket off, shaggy coppery-brownish hair that curls just under his ear and grey eyes. Intense grey eyes.
Harlow watched the bubbles on her screen as Viviana texted her back. Damn, sounds hot. Sucks he's a creeper. Harlow frowned.
Sure, it would be if my anxiety wasn't flying through the roof. I'm freaking out.
Oh God are you okay? Call me. Call me right now.
No, I don't want to, I just want to leave.
Please, I want to make sure you're okay. As Harlow got Viviana's response, Cheryl came up with her to-go box in her hands.
My food is here, I'm just going to head back to work.
Fine, okay, but if you need to you call me. Got it?
Yeah. Harlow dropped her phone into her back and snatched her food from the table. She wanted to be free from the man's stare and refused to look towards him as she left. She basically ran to her car, and safety locked herself in it. Starting it up, it needed a moment to warm up before she could leave. She realized as she sat there that her hands were shaking. She held onto her steering wheel, and closed her eyes. Harlow focused on her breathing and attempted to ground herself. After a few moments, when she finally felt her heart race slowing, she opened her glove box and pulled out a flip phone. Harlow scrolled through the short list of numbers until she landed on the one she needed. As it rang, she placed it on speaker. As she turned to pull out onto the street, a gruff "Hello" greeted her. "Detective James? It's me."
"Ms. Write, I am honestly surprise to be hearing from you. I thought if anything I would be the one contacting you." Harlow made another turn. It was in the opposite direction of her job, but an intentional move on her part. Looking in her mirrors, she could tell that no one had followed her. "Yeah, sorry about that. I just, I was wondering if there was any update- any lead to where I could be?"
"No, there's not update. Look, I understand how difficult this could be but it's been two months since the trial and we've done everything in our power to protect you. We're still monitoring them though, if it gives you any peace of mind. We will be for a while. Your location is safe. Don't worry, but if you are, I'm sure there's a therapist somewhere in that span of land that will be willing to help." Harlow sighed, and nodded her head as she took another peak in her rear view mirror. She had driven in a crazy pattern that involved her going by the same stop sign twice. Finally turning onto the correct street, she ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah, yeah, you're right. Thanks, and um, I'm sorry for interrupting your day Detective."
"No, no, it's fine. Have a nice afternoon Write."
"You too Detective." The call ended, and Harlow tossed the phone back in her glove box. She would take it out once she got home after work and place it in its dedicated spot in her underwear drawer. As she drove up to the employee parking lot, Harlow pulled out a few fries from the container in the seat beside her. Shoving them into her mouth, she parked her car. The next time around she grabbed a solid handful of fries, realizing how hungry she was now. Plus, they were really good fries.
~~~
That night, with a yawn, Harlow crawled into her bed. Snuggling into the flannel sheets, she flicked her bedside lamp off. With her signature squeak, Lady Luck bounced onto the bed. The black cat crawled over Harlow's hip, moving up to her head. Harlow shook her shoulder, "Go to bed Lady Luck." The cat meowed at her, before taking her preferred place on the pillow beside Harlow's. Soon she felt herself falling into the blackness of sleep.
There was a creak from the old wooden floor outside of her bedroom. The crack in her door became wider as it was pushed open. There was a shadow that fell over the door and onto the wall as it moved into the room. The shadow grew, looming over her. From it, there were hands that reached out, slowly closing around her throat.
Harlow's eyes popped open from the sudden lack of airflow. Her eyes bulged, and small noises came from her open mouth as she fought to breathe. She clawed at the hands at her neck, looking up to the devil himself. His black eyes bore into her soul, his hatred spilling out from them. "Shouldn't have squealed. Shouldn't have run. He should have listened to me, instead he listened to his whore. Now it's your turn." Her legs, which had been thrashing, started to slow until they ultimately stopped. Dark spots covered his face as they floated across her vision. Her vision began to tunnel. She dug her nails into his tan skin, in one final attempt, one last bit of fight; before it all went black.