The screams of terror are the only thing on my mind as I sprint through the city, heart pounding furiously, lungs gasping for air, chest heaving, mind spinning.
Five minutes earlier, a flock of random birds had burst out of nowhere and attacked a sweet, innocent-looking couple, sending shards of glass flying from the buildings, each sliver glinting with a malicious glare.
The attack had come out of nowhere - the couple never provoked the birds - and as soon as the crack of glass cut through the air, as soon as the street was covered in a thin coating of gleaming glass and scarlet blood, chaos erupted and everyone scrambled to evacuate the previously busy street. I was the first to leave, not wanting to be caught in the fray, and, knowing the labyrinths of this city as one would know the national anthem, I was the first to get to safety.
I sit, precariously perched, upon a stair railing to a beautiful apartment. A strong scent of freshly-baked bread drifts past my nose, and I feel my shoulders relax slightly. I feel at home, despite the tall height and my less-than-safe position. Wind rustles past me, but there's an ease that settles in my gut, a contented happiness that joins the weariness from running.
A large flock of birds - and a range of different species of them, oddly enough - fly past, startling me enough to drop down to the next level, and stand, clutching the railing, watching with bated breath. They're beautiful, in different shades of various colours, which raises a whole host of questions.
I lean forwards, letting the warm sunlight trace my face, illuminating a satisfied smile. I close my eyes and savour the moment, my heart bursting with gentle contentedness. My fingers curl around the metal bars in front of me as I study the city of Chicago from above. Everyone, everything seems so insubstantial. The little nook where I now live, the house I grew up in, all seems to distant. I clamber onto the roof, still slightly shaken up from the disaster on Michigan Avenue, and the golden sunlight warms by back, reflects off my hair. I follow the birds with my eyes for as long as I can before they disappear into the clouds, leaving the rest of the world behind.
I launch myself to the next roof, doing the same. Leaving the world behind. In my shadow.
