When it happened it seemed to go so slow, yet when I think back t went by all too quickly.
My fist swung.
It made contact with Christine's mouth.
In the rush of it all, my knuckles grazed Christine's white teeth, and my fist fell back to my side, her saliva dotting my fingers.
Christine's head snapped back, and for a moment I was sure that it would fall off of her neck. But it didn't. Instead, she lost her balance and fell back onto the pavement. Her head bounced, off the pavement like a rubber ball, before it finally smacked down onto the ground.
Suddenly, Christine coughed, a real hacking cough, and blood and saliva ran down her chin. If my knuckles had been a moment late when meeting her teeth, that mixture would be running down my fingers.
Yet immediately she calmed. It seemed like she was resting.
Blood blossomed on the side of Christine's head.
My first kill.
All my hopes- that maybe I was kind, that I was a good person underneath- well, they burned. They burned in the sight of Christine Reccorn's blood.
That was when I ran. Running is something I've done since as long as I can remember.
When I'm running, I don't even comprehend what I'm doing. I just try not to stop moving.
When I'm running, I fail to comprehend.
I failed to comprehend that Christine's friends had not only sent their boyfriends running after me... but that they'd also called the police.
I just kept running.