It was 5 o'clock in the morning as James Peterson was clear awake. It was not strange for him. The last couple of days he has been getting nightmares. Dreams of the fact he was getting vanquished. The worst part of it all. Wyatt was the one vanquishing him. His best friend. He could not believe it, but it still hit him every time.
Looking at the time, he stood up and put on some jogging pants as he headed downstairs to grab his music player. He didn't took time to make some breakfast. That was not needed. He needed to go away. So he grabbed his keys and headee out of the house and into his car. Looking at the red sky that was slowly getting up. The color was nice and great. Filling the complete sky.
Putting his car at the Beverly Hills beach he stood out of his car and went for a jog. Putting his music on and running over the beach. The sand under his shoes as he felt how it was slowly pulled them down. The breeze that gave a small cool feeling against his body, as it made the right temperature. He didn't think he would see many people. A few were taking out the dog and slowly far away there was a shadow of someone. He wasn't near so he couldn't see who or what it was just yet. So he jogged further hoping to see who or what it was.