Chapter 2 #2
I used to think I could rough it if needed, that when the world ended and turned into some version of Mad Max mixed with The Last of Us, that I would survive just fine.
But the truth is, I absolutely would be one of the first to die.
There is no reality in which I would be some badass chick running down zombies in her car with only her wits and knife to protect her.
Nor would I be some -like female swinging down from the trees to save humanity with the herbs I’d collected in the forest. Nope. I would absolutely die immediately..
I’m not cut out for this life. I’m cut out for frolicking through flower fields and watching storms safely behind closed doors.
Cup of coffee and good book in hand while wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket.
That's the life I’m meant for. Not this.
Not sitting in the forest, fleeing for my life right back to the town that killed my mom and sent me off to die.
Lightning cracks across the sky in a brilliant display that I would appreciate more if I didn’t feel like Mother Nature was actually about to kill me.
Snatching the last of my water from my bag I take a few sips of the stale, plastic tasting beverage.
More lightning splits the evening sky and I tremble.
The forest is not a place one wants to be in a lightning storm.
It all feels like an omen telling me not to go home.
To stay as far away from the people that broke my heart as possible, and yet it’s the only place I can go if I have any hope of escaping Royce.
I don’t want to ask them for help, but my pride was burned away from me long ago and if they are my only way out I’ll deal with seeing them.
Humiliating myself in front of them is better than Royce keeping me.
Shoving the bottle back into my pack, my hand brushes against my cell phone and I hate the nausea that pools in my gut as I remember the last few messages Royce sent me.
Royce: Theadora…
Royce: little doll…. Come home now.
Royce: Why can’t you see how much I love you? I’ve done nothing but take care of you. And this is how you repay me?
Royce: This hunt will be so much fun.
Panic crawls up my spine again, the feeling seemingly a permanent resident in my body.
And an unhelpful one when I’m trying to keep my mind somewhat clear to form a plan.
I snort to myself. A plan? That makes it sound like this was well thought out from the start.
The only plan I had when I fled Seattle was survival.
And now the only plan I have is to walk.
Walk down a dark, twisting, turning, mountain pass towards a town that holds so much fucking heartbreak.
Glancing towards my backpack again I chew on my lip nervously.
The little baggy of white pills I had stolen from Royce practically screaming my name from the pocket they reside in.
Thus far I hadn’t taken any. So focused on getting to Cedar Edge, that they hadn’t seemed tempting.
But now? Being so close to Cedar Edge, the desperation is needling into my soul.
The temptation to escape the overwhelming fear mounting with each passing second.
Take the pills.
Don’t. This is a bad place to get high. You need to be aware.
Or maybe this is the perfect place to get high. The longer you sit here the more likely you are to be found by him and dragged back.
I pull the baggy out, dumping the small pills into my hand.
He used to give them to me when I was ‘good’ and had ‘earned a treat.’ At first I resisted but by the end I did whatever I could to be granted the reprieve they gave me from the hell he put me through.
In the end I was his perfect “doll” who smiled right on cue, who laughed at the exact moments needed, and who doted on the monster whenever needed.
I pop all five into my mouth, swallowing them down with the lukewarm water.
I toss the empty bottle onto the ground behind me, leaning my head back against the tree.
A small, annoying voice pings in the back of my mind that maybe five was one or two too many.
And yet, I can’t seem to fully care about the consequences of my actions.
Death would be the better alternative to being caught.
No one runs from Royce Ripkins III.
Especially not me, not his doll.
Royce was classically handsome, his brown hair perfectly manicured, his body chiseled to perfection and the smile he flashed could get him just about anything, or anyone, he wanted.
His charm was honed into a perfect weapon that he used against everyone.
It was a net he cast out and used to ensnare his victims. As the owner, and CEO, of the largest tech company on the West Coast from the outside we had the perfect life.
Sometimes I truly think he was delusional enough to actually believe the bullshit he spewed about us.
‘High school sweethearts from a small town, reunited after years apart.’ It was the love story anyone would want.
The man deserved a fucking Oscar for his performance.
In reality it was a nightmare. He was a nightmare.
One I couldn’t escape from whether I was awake or asleep.
He made sure of that. Shaking my head, refusing to allow the memories to fully claim me I let out a long breath before shoving to my feet.
Immediately the storm feels far more intense now that I’m out of the small bit of shelter the trees provided.
But the drugs work fast on an empty stomach and already I can feel my limbs loosening and my cares floating away with the wind.
I stumble through the underbrush in the direction of the road.
The longer I walk the more reality seems to move and shift.
My body grows heavier and heavier until I’m stumbling and jerking my eyes open every few steps.
When my foot snags on the lip of the road, I tumble face first, my hands barely catching my heavy body against the asphalt.
Consciousness keeps trying to fade away from me as I struggle to keep my eyes open.
Warning bells chime in my mind, bells that seem to think it's important for me to keep my eyes open, the very ones that keep pushing me to get up and keep walking.
“No.” I think I say to the bells. But instead of listening to me they grow larger and louder with a desperate urgency, the tone sounding so similar to one of the men who broke my heart.
“I want to sleep. Leave me alone.” I try to say, but my mouth can’t seem to form the words.
Everything feels muffled and dark and I stop fighting as it drags me under.