"That's it. This is how it should be—oh, I missed you," Brian mocked, leaning forward with exaggerated delight. His voice dripped with ridicule.
I really didn't want to run into him today
Irene pulled herself back, steadying her breath as she pushed off the dirt. Her dress was stained, her hands scraped, but she forced herself upright.
When she finally stood, she dared a glance at the group gathered around her.
At the center of them stood Brian.
He was observing her closely, following every tiny movement she made. His smirk widened, pleased, triumphant
"Where've you been?" Brian asked, voice light and cruel. "It's been real boring lately."
"…It's none of your business"
Her voice wasn't loud.
Brian heard that then.
It annoyed him.
Then
Brian looked to his right.
Then to his left.
Then back at Irene.
A cruel smirk spread across his face as he stepped forward.
Irene tried to step back, but the kids had already closed in behind her.
In just a moment, Brian's taller figure cast a shadow over her. He stood close, blocking out the sun, blocking out everything else.
"I'm in a bad mood today, somehow you just made it worse."
he said flatly.
Irene barely heard him.
Her thoughts were scattered
I need to get out of here
But Brian, annoyed at being ignored, suddenly reached out and grabbed her by the hair.
She gasped.
Pain shot across her scalp as he yanked her forward, their faces now inches apart.
"Didn't you hear me?" Brian hissed. "You need to take responsibility."
Responsibility? What is he talking about?
Her heartbeat rang louder than his words.
Instinct took over. She grabbed his wrist—digging her nails in, sharp forcefully
Brian hissed in pain and immediately let go.
The force of his recoil pushed Irene back, stumbling two steps, but she managed to stay upright.
Brian stepped back too, clutching his wrist.
Anger took over—boiling and dangerous.
His eyes hardened into something that sent a shiver down Irene's.
He was furious.
The crowd froze, startled by what just happened.
All eyes shifted to Brian—then to his wrist—then to Irene.
She didn't waste that moment.
Irene gasped, seized the opening, and dashed through the smallest gap in the circle.
Her feet kicked up dust as she bolted straight toward the forest.
Brian blinked, stunned for half a second.
Then rage twisted across his face.
"GET HER!" he shouted.
But no one moved.
Half of the kids stared after Irene, watching her run farther and farther from the village road.
The other half couldn't stop staring at Brian, at the red marks on his wrist.
Brian growled, dropped his hand, and broke into a sprint after her.
That snapped them out of it.
One kid moved.
Then another.
Then the whole group followed—trailing behind Brian, chasing the girl.
From Irene's basket, petals fluttered out one after another as she ran—
a colorful trail scattering behind her like falling confetti.
Some petals landed on the faces of the children chasing her.
Others drifted lazily in the air, catching the sun.
Brian tore through them without slowing down, ripping apart the flower trail with furious strides.
Irene darted right into a narrow alley.
Then another sharp right.
Brian followed immediately, squeezing himself into the cramped space.
The rest of the gang, however, stumbled—
pushing, bumping, struggling to fit through the alley one at a time.
Irene took a left.
Then a right.
Then another turn—her feet moving on pure instinct as she mapped the village.
But Brian remained right behind her.
Every turn she made, he followed.
Every shortcut she took, he matched.
Finally, they reached the forest
and she sprinted deeper until she reached the dirt trail near the river.
There—
She threw herself behind a bush, collapsing into the weeds.
She kept herself quiet, pressing both hands against her mouth to stop the sound.
Irene closed her eyes the moment she heard heavy footsteps crashing toward her.
Brian sprinted past her hiding spot so close she felt the air shift, the pounding of his steps slamming in her ears like drums.
She stayed frozen, hands over her mouth, listening as his footsteps grew farther… and farther… until they finally faded into the distance.
Only then did she loosen her grip, cautiously opening her eyes.
She slowly shifted her weight, preparing to stand and escape while she still had the chance.
But then
New footsteps erupted.
Many this time.
Irene immediately dropped back down into the bush, pressing herself tight against the earth as the gang flooded into the woods after Brian.
Children ran past her one after another—shouting, panting, stumbling through leaves.
Branches snapped under their feet.
Dirt scattered.
Irene curled her legs tightly, folded her arms over them, and buried her face into the space between her knees.
All she could do was sit there, small and shaking, as the loud footsteps of the village children thundered past her hiding place—
one by one, like an endless stampede.
…
Unable to find the girl, the children scattered through the forest.
Their footsteps broke apart—some running left, some right, some deeper into the trees—calling to each other in frustration.
And Irene stayed there.
Shivering.
Her whole body curled into the smallest shape she could make.
Please… please…
As fear piled on top of fear, her mind began to retreat.
The world around her blurred.
The noise of the forest faded, as if someone slowly closed a door on reality.
Irene slipped inward
into a dark, numb place where she didn't have to feel anything.
She didn't notice the children leaving.
Didn't hear their voices fade.
Didn't realize the sun had begun to set and the sky had turned orange.
One by one, the kids gave up the search.
They assumed Irene wasn't in the forest.
They drifted back toward the village, tired and annoyed.
By the time the woods quieted again, Irene was still there behind the bushes. Curled tightly, unmoving, lost somewhere deep inside her own darkness.
The world had gone quiet.
The girl who feared misfortune sat alone in its shadow,
unable to pull herself back out.