Stop Running

The hallways smelt like disinfectant and lavender, an odd scent that had already grown on Veil. It barely bothered her as she walked to the coffee shop on the first floor and took a seat, staring out into space.

She needed to think about how to get the money before Tuesday, yet her brain chose that time to keep mute. She felt nothing other than a slow, seeping need to just let go and watch everything go up in flames around her.

It sure would hurt, and maybe she would go under after that, but right now, nothing made sense, and her brain was unwilling to even make sense of it.

Someone approached her with a pamphlet about saving a kid who had to undergo heart surgery, and Veil reached out mechanically to take the paper. She skimmed through it for a second and let it drop to the table in a whisper.

Although she felt bad the moment the person walked away with disappointment etched on his features, Veil thought that she was no different from him, only that she wasn’t handing out fliers. She