One foot flew to be in front of the other; again and again and again, in a steady pattern. Her legs propelled her through dark in a constant run.

The morning cold nipped at her flushed cheeks and brushed her chapped lips. The breeze tossed her loose ponytail about in the wind. The pavement beneath her made a tap-tap noise every time her sneaks landed on it. It was continual. It was constant. It was stable.

To Aubrey, running was more of a routine than exercise. It was therapeutic; the sort of thing one does not because they are forced too, but because it sets their day straight.

Racing around a corner, eighteen-year-old Aubrey flew past shadowy neighborhoods and gloomy apartment buildings. The morning sun could be spotted just momentarily reflecting off the topmost windows of the particularly high buildings. But other than those windows, the four-a.m. morning was black as the coffee that waited for her when she returned.

At this hour, her hometown of Washington DC was void of people. The bars were closed causing the Thursday-night-partiers from the night before to be home, while those who would be preparing for work had not yet had their first cup of coffee. It was that peaceful in-between hour that Aubrey treasured. No one was here. No one could see her. No one wanted to see her.

Across the bubblegum-caked sidewalks and past spray-painted buildings, her legs flew. Her body carried her out of the city life and into the empty side of DC. It was like instinct and her mind did not waste a thought on direction. Her body knew where it was headed.

She did her best to hold back her thoughts. Aubrey knew what would happen if she didn't. It was like a tidal wave of emotions held up by a dam. When she opened the door—just a crack—to her thoughts, they all came crashing down at once to sweep her away. She was stronger than that and wouldn't let it happen, she told herself.

Even still, the eighteen-year-old had trouble withstanding the temptation. Her destination was a guilty secret and the thoughts were inevitable once she arrived. She knew that. Part of her knew that's why she came here as many mornings as she was able but the other part would never admit it.

Aubrey rounded another corner.

Her excuse was that every other clearing in the city had too many lights nearby, polluting the sky so that she was unable to see the stars. But she was smarter than that. Deep down she knew quite well why she was out here. Never in her wildest dreams, though, would she admit it to herself.

Turning around the last corner, her sneakers set onto her childhood street. Aubrey's breathing became shallower. Her heart raced faster than before.

This place never did change much. The old apartment building had broken glass in its windows and spray-painted graffiti on the brick, yet other than that, the place was the same as the day she left.

Only one streetlight remained working on the avenue. It flickered as if at any moment it would go out. Bugs encircled that light in hopes of warmth.

Despite the spring air, Washington DC was still chilly at this time of year. Summer seemed to refuse to come, for the nights were just as cold as fall. Aubrey didn't mind the cold, though. In fact, she enjoyed it. As long as there was no snow, she could run better in the icy wind than in the hot summer clouds.

Nearing the end of the street, she paused her timer and began to walk. Fourteen minutes, her timer read. Not bad for the two miles she had run so far.

A year or two ago, her guardian, Aunt Vicky, had caught a glimpse at Aubrey's log of run times. Aunt Vicky had done all she could to get Aubrey to join the school's track team. Aubrey, however, complained she didn't run for speed and that it also conflicted with her "tight schedule."

Her aunt had simply rolled her eyes. 'Hun, ya gotta get out and do somethin'.' Those words had been muttered through rings of cigarette smoke, Aubrey remembered, and the conversation had ended there.

Taking a moment to stretch at the end of the road, Aubrey turned off the path. She was walking to a familiar circle of pines trees. The trees were bigger than they had been those eleven years ago. However, the view from the center was the same.

Aubrey allowed her gaze to drift up to the stars. Her hands fumbled for her notebook and pen. When they found them, she laid down on the pine needles just like her mother and she had done those years ago.

Sloppily sketching out portions of the sky and jotting down a few notes, Aubrey smiled at the constellation above. It was Gemini. Her mother's favorite. Mama had said the twins in the constellation had reminded her of little Aubrey and her. Just the two of them in a huge sky of black. "It's okay, though," Mama had whispered. "There's a lot of black out there but the eighty-five stars in Gemini are more than enough to light a path in the dark for someone to follow."

Pushing the memory down, Aubrey tucked her notebook into her side pocket and un-paused her timer.

Her feet flew across the pavement again. Aubrey pushed a little harder in hopes of forgetting. She just wanted to forget. Forget all of her memories that never ceased to be a weight in her stomach. They pulled on her; burdened her; brought her down.

Her legs burned. Her abs threatened cramping. But still, she pushed harder. Quicker and quicker. She ignored the burning pain. Aubrey trampled the pavement of the avenue that she dreamed about still living on like she had before.

She pushed harder and harder. It was no time before she was home and paused her time. Twenty-six minutes now. She had pulled a "cold-reed" with two whole minutes less on her way back than on her way up.

Aubrey's hands burned red and were shaky in the cold as sweat dripped from her ponytail. She found her apartment in seconds and slid into a cold shower. When she was out and in one of her white collared shirts and black pants, the sun was beginning to rise over the whole city.

Some people at her middle school years ago had laughed at her. They called her a cartoon character because she wore nearly the same thing every day. Aubrey never minded it, though. Her aunt had begged her to allow her to help. In Aunt Vicky's mind, Aubrey was a lost soul but in Aubrey's mind, Aunt V. just never seemed to grasp the whole picture.

Tying her wet, black hair into a tighter ponytail this time, she walking into the kitchen. Aubrey found Aunt Vicky on the coach already on her third cup of black coffee.

"Hun, have you seen my 720 lipstick? The dusty-pink colored one?" spoke Aunt V.

"Your what now?" Aunt Vicky rolled her eyes. "Oh, is that the one you left in the sugar bowl?"

"No, no, no... wait, found it, thanks, hun," Aunt V. spoke as she pulled a lipstick tube out of the side of the coach and put the sickly-pink color on her already caked-with-makeup face.

Picking up her backpack, Aubrey began to head out the door.

"Nah, nah, nah, you get back here, girly," called Aunt V. after her. "Have you taken your Aspirin?"

Sighing and muttering under her breath, Aubrey turned back to the kitchen and popped the 50mg pill and headed out the door.

Shortly after her mother had passed, Aubrey had insisted she get tested for coronary artery disease—the disease that had taken her mother's life in a heart attack. The disease was rarely genetic and mainly occurred in older adults but she wanted to be tested nonetheless.

When the results came back positive, the doctors had given her morning and evening pills and strict instructions to exercise often, but not too harshly, and to eat healthily in order to keep her risk of a heart attack lower than it already was.

Aubrey headed down the stairs and out of the building, she sped-walked to Lee's Café a few blocks away. She was a stickler for routine, always had been. Aubrey walked right up to the back of the line in hopes of ordering her same coffee from the same place after the same run.

"Aubrey!" ten-year-old Maria spoke as she leaned over the counter. "I already made your usual," spoke the young Mexican girl whose father owned the café as she held up the large Black-Eye-Roast coffee Aubrey ordered every morning.

"Oh, hey, Maria, thank you!" Aubrey smiled as she walked past the line, over to the little girl and fumbled for her wallet.

"Nah, that's okay," Maria spoke as she gestured to Aubrey's cash, "this one's on the house."

"You sure? That's what you said to the last one and I'm pretty sure your pops didn't like that..."

"Yeah, yeah," spoke Maria. She then looked left and right for her father and when she couldn't see him, she whispered, "I won't tell him if you don't."

"Got it." Aubrey laughed and waved goodbye as she headed for school. A strange feeling in the pit of her stomach that something wasn't quite the same. The weather felt too cold for late May.