I rode too far.

I knew I did; from the minute I crossed the imaginary border between my gang;s property and the next. I knew I was fucked, however, when I heard the rumble of another engine. Another five engines.

And well, now I was running for my life. I felt the wind against my face, and for some reason, the adrenaline felt... Good. It felt addicting, but I was more worried about my life than the way the wind felt.

They corral me to the curb, the concrete sidewalk coming closer and closer to my bike. The front wheel skids along it, leaving a black shadow in its wake. I pull away just before I overbalance and tip. I was facing a certain crash.

I notice the girl on the sidewalk way too late. She’s walking down the sidewalk, her clothes in tatters, wrinkled and dirty and torn. Her hair is mussed up too, and she limps down the sidewalk like she hasn’t walked in years, her skin pale and bruised.

She’s hyper aware of every passing car, stumbling away from the road. To others, she could look insane, but I know that hair anywhere. Mia...

I remember the day she went missing. The day I lost a piece of myself. I remember putting up missing posters everywhere, hosting search parties in my free time. I remember going practically crazy trying to find her, but no matter how long and hard I looked for, I could never find her. She was supposed to be dead.

Yet here she was. Two years later.

Shit, shit, shit.

My bike crashes into the curb, and I go flying into her. My arms react before my brain does, and I wrap them around her and shield her from my bike splintering into pieces behind me. She stumbles backward, the impact knocking the air from her lungs.

Her eyes widen, and my head slumps to her shoulder. It’s her. She’s here. She’s safe. Alive... I wanted to know everything. All of it, but she seemed overwhelmed, nervous, skittish, so I stand. I pull her up with me, into my arms. “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re alive...”