Running Game(170)

As I found my way onto the main highway through this boring little town, I felt my mind wander. I remembered what it felt like, feeling like I was covered with filth all the time. Dirty. Disgusting. A hideous creature, relegated to the shadows.

The filth, burned off by the light… Angel was my light.

I was drowning in brightness. Why the fuck did I leave her behind?

You’ve changed me so much, I whispered in my head to her. I don’t care what it takes. I’m going to find you, and I’m going to bring you back.

After a few minutes, the ramshackle bar came back into view. It looked even worse with no darkness to hide its decrepit nature.

I crunched gravel beneath my tires. Stabilizing the motorcycle, I brought it to the side of the building, kicking down the support stand.

Pulling off my helmet I heard the door creak open, then a pause. I could only imagine what was going through his head as I had my back turned.

After a moment came the sound of mirthless, angry chuckling. “Of course it was fucking you,” rang out the defeated mutter of Old Greg.

I hung the helmet from the handlebar, turning to face the crotchety old man. As I did so, I heard the click of his rifle, and gazed upon his furious, wrinkled form.

“You have some fucking nerve coming back here, boy.”

“I need your help,” I responded.

He laughed, spitting into the grass. “My help? You took her away! You swooped out of fucking nowhere and you stole her away from me!”

“She’s gone,” I replied, ignoring his rifle.

Angel’s lost.

I can’t die now.

Maybe when I know she’s safe.

“She’s…gone?”

“You’re the only person who knew her,” I answered, holding my hands up – out of respect, rather than any fear. “I care about the girl. I’ve come here to find answers. I need to know what happened to her, and I think you know more than you’ve told her.”

Old Greg’s eyes quivered with fury, but he slowly lowered the rifle. “I’ve told her everything, asshole. The problem is that she can’t remember any of it.”

“Help me find her,” I pleaded. “Someone near me sent her away, alone and afraid. I’ve come to keep her safe. But I can’t reach her. Do you know where I can look for her?”

He planted the head of the rifle against the floor, leaning on it disdainfully. He stared at me angrily for a moment, and finally sighed and shook his head.

“You love that girl?”

“More than life,” I replied, not a moment of hesitation in my voice.

“I guess you’d better come inside, then. We have a lot to discuss if you want to find my granddaughter…”





28





Angel





It was mid-afternoon when I finally woke up.

I don’t recognize this ceiling…

And then I did.

And I almost went full panic mode.

But I settled down as I remembered the events of the previous day – of arriving at the bus station, of Mom picking me up and driving me back here…back where it all began.

A shudder slipped through my shoulders.

Reluctantly, I tossed off the threadbare scrap of a blanket, crawling off of the mattress on the floor. It was stiflingly hot and humid, and I didn’t like it.

Rising up and looking at myself in the cheap mirror that had been pulled out for me, I realized that I looked like a total mess.

Huge bags under my eyes? Check.

Ratty t-shirt and a pair of panties? Check.

Ragged, unwashed hair? Check.

Don’t I just look like a fairy princess.

I could hear scrounging about in the kitchen.

“You finally awake in there?” My mom called out from a few rooms away.

“Yeah, going to take a shower,” I replied back.

“Go on, then!” She shouted.

I stumbled over to the bathroom with a change of clothes, flicking on the shower. As I waited for the water to warm up a little more than arctic blast, I stared myself in the mirror.

This is what life is going to be like, I told myself. At least for a little while. I can always find another way once I’ve got my footing. Maybe I can hitchhike out to the city and find myself a job waiting tables.

I shook my head.

The last time I pulled that stunt, I got lucky. Things could have ended up so bad… Like with those bikers back at the bar…

Can I be lucky a second time? A third?

I doubted it. I’d used up most of my luck living this long.

Once the water was finally just warm enough to climb in, I settled into the shower. She only had a single bar of soap, so I tried to lather off the top layer before rudimentarily scrubbing down my body.

I needed it. The thin layer of oil and grime came off.

I’d only been in the shower less than ten minutes before the water starting turning bone-chillingly cold again. Shrieking and fighting the faucet, I hopped back out and dried off, then dressed myself in my underwear, a graphic tee, and my miniskirt. All I had were some of my old bartending clothes. At least I felt human again…