I usually run in the morning.
I especially like it during autumn.
When the leaves are falling in an array of colours, a small amount of dew painted on the grass, the noise it makes as my feet trample on leaves.
Barrett, my best friend, has never understood why I like to get up early to run. She always says... "Why would you run when you can sleep? I don't really think I need to back my point up with anything,"
I usually just roll my eyes at her and tell her to join me one day.
"Sure," She scoffs.
It's almost a routine for us, this conversation.
But I've learnt to be quiet when I do get ready in the morning because a Barrett that has involuntarily woken up is most definitely not a happy Barrett.
Not to mention she's usually hungover.
The route I usually take is nice. Just over two miles long. One way that is.
When I come out of the apartment block, I begin jogging, to the right, straight towards the statue of two hands intertwined.
The streets I run down are all straight, no slopes or dips.
The park I go to is beautiful, very picturesque. There's normally a few joggers there in the morning and some dog walkers, the odd business man briskly walking.
Early hours.
In the spring, it's very pretty. Pale pink blossom trees line the pathway and before you know it, they've changed to the reds, oranges and yellows of autumn.
I couldn't tell you the exact measurements of the park but it's massive. The grass stretches far out and trees usually obscure your vision from one end to another.
I do my lap of the park and head back the same way.
Some of the cafes are beginning to open and more people seem to be spread out on the streets, but it's still quite calm.
My ear phones usually give me the illusion of being in a movie. When I jog, I look at people and wonder why they're out so early. It's normally quite easy.
Dog walker... jogger... cafe owner.... nurse just finished the night shift.... businessman
But sometimes I see someone different.
A woman dressed in tight fitting leather trousers and white crop top with shoulder pads.
I imagined her as a rock star who was returning from her concert after finishing a show. But then again, she probably wouldn't be walking the streets at this time by herself.
I never saw her again.
I remember seeing this boy once, a teenager with light brown hair, mostly hidden beneath a blue beanie. He was wearing black trousers and a red sweatshirt. Headphones on top of his beanie.
He wasn't rushing, but I wondered why he was out so early. I'd only seen him... three times I think. About a month apart each time and each time he looked a bit paler, a bit thinner, a bit more tired.
Today is October 17th. Monday. 5:45am.
Is it weird that the idea of sleeping in has never appealed to me?
I pull myself out of bed and open my curtains. The sun was beginning to break through the cracks.
I love the sun but I love the moon a bit more. I always have. I tend to personify the moon as a person, a friend.
I choose a pair of grey leggings with a distinctive black stripe going down the side. I sling them over my arm and pick a simple, white, Nike running top with a small amount of black detail across the shoulders.
White ankle socks and my navy blue Nike trainers.
I slip out of my room, careful not to make any noise and enter the bathroom to have a quick shower and wake myself up a little more.
Within five minutes I was out and drying myself off then pulling on a sports bra and the rest of my attire.
I put one slice of bread into the toaster and grabbed a jar of multi berry jam.
Slinging my hair up into a ponytail, I wait for my toast to pop up.
*PING*
I didn't want much jam but just enough.
I slip my feet in my shoes and tie up the laces behind my ankle, it's how my father taught me to do it.
It had just gone six and I slipped out, quietly shutting the door and securing my ear phones.
I pressed play.
Loving can hurt
Loving can hurt sometimes
But it's the only thing that I know
When it gets hard
You know it can get hard sometimes
It is the only thing that makes us feel alive
We keep this love in a photograph
We made these memories for ourselves
Where our eyes are never closing
Hearts are never broken
Times forever frozen still
So you can keep me
Inside the pocket
Of your ripped jeans
Holdin' me closer-
The park had just come into view when pain started shooting up my right leg. I felt my foot twist in a funny way on a broken bit of pavement that I would usually run past each morning and I grabbed onto the nearby railing to stop myself from falling.
But this morning I had run into it and damn the pain was bad. I knew I couldn't continue so I slowly made my way back home.
I slotted the key in the lock and pushed the door open, being careful that I don't put any pressure on my foot.
I hobbled into the kitchen but misjudged my footing and ended up slipping, straight onto the floor and bringing a mug crashing down with me in a failed attempt to grab onto something.
"Oh shit," I mumbled, trying to shuffle backwards.
"Stef, what the fu-" Barrett walked into the kitchen, her wild mane of hair obviously indicating that she had just woken up. "What are you doing on the floor?" She asked, though she was expecting this kind of behaviour from me. Admittedly, I can be quite clumsy.
"I hurt my ankle when I was out jogging then came back and slipped," I explained, brushing some of the ceramic pieces away which thankfully weren't too small.
"We'll get you checked out later," Barrett said, pulling me up from the floor and looping one arm around my waist as she led me to the living room.
Once I was settled on the sofa, she disappeared to grab a bag of frozen vegetables to lay on my foot. But when she placed it on my swollen body part, it became increasingly lighter.
"Barrett, the bag is open!" I shouted while laughing at the mix of frozen vegetables now spewed on the floor.
"No shit Sherlock," She mumbled, scooping some of the contents into her hands. "Ugh hang on," She muttered, walking back to the kitchen and returning with a sealed bag of peas and dustpan and hand brush.
"I should be sleeping," She mumbled, glaring at me while I stayed in my place watching her tidy... it was a rare moment. She wandered back and forth from the living room and kitchen a few times then finally returned with my phone in her hand.
"Why do you listen to Ed Sheeran when you run?" She asked, making a weird face. "Wouldn't it be better with up beat songs like my girl Riri!" She laughed, chucking the device in my direction.
"He's soothing. Keeps me calm and regulates my breathing somehow," I also would've added that his songs make my fake reality of being in a movie seem so real but I knew I would just suffer relentless teasing about that.
A few hours later, Barrett and I were sitting in the waiting room of the x ray department, waiting for the results.
"Stefania Spampinato?" The doctor called. I looked at Barrett and rolled my eyes, mispronunciation of my name was not a rare thing. But it's not that difficult.
"It seems that you have just sprained your ankle so rest it, keep it elevated and take these pain killers every four hours. If the swelling doesn't seem to go down or the pain increases, then come back," I took the prescription and thanked the doctor before walking out with Barrett who was still cautious that I might fall over.
I spent the rest of the day resting at home watching Netflix and eating whatever we had in the fridge, and that was basically it until just gone eleven when I began to feel my eyes droop.
"I'm going to bed," I mumbled, pulling myself up and holding onto the sofa for support.
"You okay there?" Barrett asked, raising one eye brow as I wobbled about a bit.
"Dandy," I smiled, tapping the top of her head before walking off into my room and collapsing on the bed.
Honestly, my ankle already felt a bit better, just slightly bruised.
Today is October 22nd. Saturday. 6:00am.
I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, moving my foot left... And then right.
It feels... normal, I guess.
So I picked out black leggings and a white long sleeved running top.
White ankle socks and my navy blue Nike trainers.
And just like Monday, and pretty much every other day, I have a quick shower and a slice of toast with multi berry jam on it.
But not too much.
I exit the apartment building and begin to jog towards the park. For some reason, I take in my surroundings even more so today.
I notice some graffiti on a shop shutter of a girls face. The detail was immaculate. I paused to look at it.
Her braids were flying around her head and her cheek bones were prominent.
Her eyes were covered beneath her eye lids but her eye brows were furrowed.
How come I'd never seen that before?
I noticed the artist's signature near the corner.
J.Ortiz
I'd never heard of him before, or her.
I continue jogging and look up, noticing the heights that some of the blocks reached up to. Businesses and apartments.
I slowly reach the entrance to the park and begin to jog down the path.
My eyes were trained ahead and the soothing voice of Ed Sheeran was blessing my ear drums.
Then just like Monday, I feel a horrible pain shooting up my leg from my foot, however unlike Monday, there isn't anything to hold onto and I fall onto the ground, clutching my ankle that seemed to be throbbing.
"Leyton! Come here boy! Come back!" I glance up just as a small, black Labrador collided with me and began eagerly sniffing around.
He nudged against my leg and I winced slightly, clicking my fingers so the friendly dog moved away from my injured body part.
"I'm so sorry, he's just making sure you're alright. Are you okay with dogs?" I look up to see a woman, I assumed to be around my age looking down at me with a lead in her hand.
She was wrapped up in a large coat pulled up high to cover her neck, blonde hair was blowing lightly in the breeze.
Her eyes were kind of captivating.
"Oh no! It's fine, I love dogs," I laugh softly, stroking the hyper active dogs head.
"Um, are you okay there?" She asked, kneeling down next to me.
"Oh right," I said, realising that I was still on the ground. "I sprained my ankle earlier this week and thought it was better, obviously not," I laughed gently.
"Do you need help getting up?" She asked, attaching Leyton's collar back to the leash, making the Labrador kick his back legs against the grass in defiance.
"Hang on, let me try," I said, placing my hands firmly on the ground and pushing up. I managed to lever myself up a bit but the pain seemed to have multiplied and I landed back on the ground.
"Here, I'll help," The kind stranger said, latching one arm around my waist and pulling me up.
I caught a whiff of her perfume. It smelt sweet. Kind of like a day dream.
"Do you have far to get back home?" She asked, one hand around my waist, the other on the leash.
"Not too far," I said. "But thank you for helping me up, see ya Leyton!" I said, giggling when the Labrador whipped his head around at the sound of his name.
I pulled away from the blue eyed girl but instantly regretted it when the moment my foot came into contact with the ground, a searing pain shot up and I leant against a tree to balance myself.
"I'll walk you back," She said, resuming our original position with one hand around my waist.
"It's okay, I'll just call my friend," I said, not wanting to cause her any trouble.
"No, come on, I'm already here," She protested, already leading me to the exit so I decided to just lean into her as we began walking.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" I asked, as we walked past the graffiti that I couldn't help but stare at again.
"A hundred percent. Leyton likes his long walks anyway," She said, tugging the leash slightly when the dog began sniffing at a rubbish bag left on the side of the street.
We made small conversation as we walked, about the weather, she told me how long she'd had Leyton for, I told her how much I love running in the morning.
"Okay, well this is me," I said, sighing when we arrived in front of my apartment block.
"You'll be good getting up the stairs?" She asked, pulling Leyton next to her leg.
"Yeah, I should be," I said, shifting my weight slightly. "You know, maybe running two miles with a sprained ankle wasn't the best idea I've ever had," I laughed softly.
"Maybe not, but at least you know for future reference," She said, moving her arm away and helping me lean against the door.
"Well, thank you...."
"Danielle," She finished.
"Danielle," I repeated. "Thank you Danielle," I smiled, petting Leyton gently on the head.
"You are most welcome..."
"Stefania," I smiled.
"Stefania," Danielle said, smiling at me softly.
We exchanged goodbyes and I managed to get into my apartment where Barrett was still sound asleep.
And I hoped that I would see Danielle again on my runs.
I'll probably look out for her... And Leyton of course.
Danielle... the girl with the captivating eyes.