Caged in Paradise (2nd Draft)

The Runaway

As I step on the gas and chase the black Mercedes, my heart starts going just as fast. I quickly catch up to it at the red lights. I trail behind him as we pass by the mountains towards his house. He's picking up speed, but I'm not afraid of a little challenge. If he wants a race, he's got it. I know he's still drunk... maybe I am too.

Though it's just a short ten-minute drive, my nerves stretch time out like an eternity. What do I say when he finally stops? I can't start with asking questions, he'll just avoid answering them. Does he realize I'm tailing him? I feel like I'm absolutely crazy for this. But it's not like he hasn't done crazier stuff.

As we turn a corner entering the street, my heart races. Surely, he's seen my mom's red Toyota by now. I stay close behind; he can't speed in this neighborhood. When he opens the gates to his house remotely, I swiftly park on the curb. Surprisingly, I manage to do it all quickly.

I ditch my heels in the car and dash across the street, desperate to catch Koa before the gate shuts. The creak of its closing echoes as I pass an old lady walking with her dog, giving me a judgmental glance. Of course, seeing a disheveled girl running barefoot, makeup smeared, in obvious distress would grab anyone's attention. But I ignore the stares; I need to talk to him.

"Koa!" I shout at the top of my lungs, the whole neighborhood surely hearing me. But it's too late; the gate closes before I can reach it. My hands grip the metal bars as I see him down the gravel path, closing the car door and walking toward his front door. He still hasn't noticed me, so I yell frustratedly once more, "Koa, open the gate!"

He turns around, annoyed. "Maya?!" he hisses quietly, then jogs over to the gate, but doesn't open it yet. Our eyes meet as he holds onto the bars, avoiding eye contact with his neighbors. "You need to leave," he says, his tone unreadable.

"I'm not leaving until I've talked to you," I insist stubbornly.

He clenches his jaw and scoffs, exhaling heavily. "Go home," he repeats in the same tone.

"Not before you tell me what happened between you and Nick," I demand, still gripping the gate tightly, using it as a lifeline for my nerves. "It's none of your business," he retorts, angry, with a furrowed brow. But there's hesitation in his movements; shuffling his feet and swaying his body back and forth.

That's how I know he wants to talk. But can't. or feels like he can't.

He heads toward the house, scratching his head. I can't contain my frustration. There's always been a big wall between Koa and me, and this gate symbolizes it perfectly. I struggle to understand him; he rarely lets his guard down. But I'm determined to stay until I uncover what's truly eating at him.

"Fine! Walk away again! Just like you always do when things get serious!" I scream after him. Expecting that to provoke him like usual, but this time he doesn't even turn around.

I scoff, frustration boiling within me at the whole situation. Then, my mind drifts back to that day he came to my house with the Ferrari... to that night on the beach when apparently I infiltrated his house... to all the amazing memories he's given me, honestly.

Fuck it.

I can't climb the fence; it's lined with sharp spikes. So, I dash around the expansive property, the towering walls of bushes stretching far. I'm determined to find a way through. Spotting an opening leading into the woods, toward the water, nestled between the grand villas, I venture in.

Swatting at bugs and spitting out saliva, the thought of inhaling any disgusts me. My feet sink into the dirt, occasionally stung by annoying twigs.

But I have to get to him.