READER'S ROCK LIFESTYLE MAGAZINE VOL 2 ISSUE 4 NOVEMBER 2014 Vol. 1 Issue 8 Feb. 2014 | Page 30

Fran Veal

I run to escape. I run to get away...
My parents have been
murdered, will I be next?
A twig snapped behind me. Jerked out of my
thoughts, I jumped up and spun around. My heart
stopped. Before me hair gleaming in the sun, stood
an angel. Okay, slight (and I do mean slight)
exaggeration.
He was tall with muscles that rippled under his
red T-shirt. His hair was blond and tousled, with one
wave flipped just above his eyebrow. He stood there,
staring at me with eyes as deep and blue as the sea. I
forgot to breathe.
Then the angel frowned.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. Okay,
so he was also self-absorbed, stern and nosy.
My chest started to hurt, and I realized I was
holding my breath. It came out in a rush. Who did
he think he was, anyway?
“What do you mean, 'what are you doing
here'? I was here first.” I stood, planning to have it
out with Mr. Perfect.
“I'm sorry,” he said politely, “Let me rephrase
that. What I meant to say is that I've never seen you
here before.”
His sudden change in demeanor gave me whiplash. I tried to hold my cool under his steady gaze. I
struggled to think of something brilliant to say, but I
was, at the moment, absolutely speechless.
The angel seemed to be studying me as if
puzzled. Finally, he spoke. “You seem real enough.”
He paused, brows furrowed, “I'm… Joshua, but you
can call me Josh.”
The sound of his voice was soft, lyrical,
mesmerizing. He looked straight into my eyes
without flinching or glancing away. My anger melted
away. I had to shake myself to clear my head.
I was torn between being captivated and scared
out of my mind. He might look like he'd stepped off
the pages of a magazine, but for all I knew, his looks
were the only good thing about him. I stepped back
cautiously, eyeing the trail to my left.
“And you are?” he asked, stepping toward me.
“Leaving,” I started to back up, but a strong
hand grabbed my wrist. My heart was pounding as I
struggled to break free.
“Hold up. What's your hurry?”
He was so close, I could smell his cologne. Part
of me just wanted to stand there and take it all in, but
the part that had just experienced major trauma

wanted to run away.
“Back off,” I warned.
“Okay, okay,” he dr