• Bob Dylan (III) •

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Woo, I am on a roll! (Please do not get used to it.) Here is the first of two requests for the incredible -starsailor  - Jim is coming up, but I will be doing another story before to give some time between the Jim pieces, hope that's okay! I really enjoyed writing this, to be honest - I hope you enjoy it too :)

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Lost in New York wasn't where anybody wanted to be. Not on their own. Yet it was becoming increasingly clear as you stumbled around another foreign corner that this was the predicament you'd found yourself in. And, to make matters worse, the Heavens had decided to open not long after you had run from the apartment with your raincoat in hand. 

Your raincoat, a long grey trench with black buttons and slightly uneven stitches, was old and ripped in several places, offering little coverage from the worsening downpour. Desperately, you slipped your arms from the sleeves and cast the thin material over your already-drenched head. Taking no notice of street signs and store names, you pressed determinedly on.

Although the winter winds were harsh against your reddening cheeks and the rain soaked your skin down to your very bones, there was a glimmering feeling growing inside you, like ivy clambering madly up brick.

Finally, you had run. You had fled the smoke-infused darkness of his dayless apartment. Stumbled down the broad stone steps with the wind rushing your pounding ears and sweeping your coattails in a fleeting arc behind you. Allowed the growling sound of his voice swiping at you from the open window to be whisked away on the breeze.

You didn't understand how your relationship had got so bad. Sometimes, he was positively angelic. Others he was the devil incarnate. Recently, however, the only time you ever got a glimpse of his halo was when he was fast asleep. He had spent one too many nights at the bottom of whiskey bottles that held him tighter than you ever could, and he had threatened such horrible things that even Judas would have trembled. So, you had run.

Your whole body, from the crown of your head to your little toes, was tingling with a tsunami of emotions and adrenaline that made you want to scream, laugh and dance all at the same time. As you paced the streets of New York, you knew that every step was carrying you further away from him, taking you to the unwritten future that spread open in front of you like a blank page. For a while, it was this cocktail that kept you going.

However, when the moon transcended the sun and the rain refused to cease ravaging the city, your energy quickly began to dwindle. As your legs started to tire and your eyes grew heavy, that dangerous fuel drained like the sands of an hourglass. Reality fell into its place. Where would you go? What would you do? What could you do?

Suddenly, that freedom you had been anticipating, that future you had been envisioning, crumbled right before your eyes. Your boyfriend may have been a monster, but he was all you knew. You had moved to Upper Manhattan for him. His friends had become your friends. Now, you were all alone.

Damning questions pulsed through your mind as your feet carried on leading you. You could feel the shoulders of strangers against your body, but your mind was so preoccupied that you didn't even notice.

Then, when you finally looked up, you realised you didn't even know where you were. The skyscrapers were shadowed figures looming over you with their sharp claws poised, the rain was red hot bullets against your quivering skin, and the people – not just strangers, they had become the monsters of your childhood nightmares, emerging from the shadows of your anguish to finally finish you off.

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