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Chapter Six

This is way too easy.

I walked out of my house, saying the last of my farewells to Mariah, even though she kept asking me if I had everything. It was exhausting listening to her, she almost sounded like a worried mother, not that I'd know what that was like. I only assumed.

"Do you have your cellphone, niña?"

"Of course." I said as I held it up. "Call me if something happens." She was acting as if I wasn't coming back for weeks. This was supposed to be a one night sleepover -not that I was actually going to a sleepover, and it was true, I wasn't going to be back for weeks. Hopefully I wasn't going to come back at all.

"Of course I will call you, you stupid. You are número uno para contactar."

"Good." I nodded, "I'll see you tomorrow." I lied. I was getting pretty good at lying, if I do say so myself.

I waved goodbye to her, and suddenly, the moment my foot stepped onto the sidewalk, off our house's property, I felt free. I felt nervous, and an rush of anxiety overwhelmed me. But, surpass all that, I also felt excited. This was the most dangerous thing I have ever done in my life, and I couldn't wait to experience it.

Once I was out of sight from my house, I leaned against a tree, and took out the map in my back pocket. I studied it as if my life depended on it, which it did, in some ways. If I was lucky, I'd be able to make it there in two days, if I don't stop walking. Depending on how fast I walk as well, though I wasn't some freak athlete, walking slowly was my profession.

"Okay." I spoke to myself, "If I manage to catch the five-thirty bus in town, I might be able to go as far as the end of the city." Problem was, if I didn't start running now, I'd never catch the bus. It was two hours away, and the time was almost four o'clock.

It was important that I go as far as I can before the night is up. Once Mariah realizes I'm not coming back, she will most likely call the police. I need to get as far away as possible before she does. As much as it filled my heart up with anxiety, I knew I could go quite a distance if I don't stop once during the night. Once I'm out of state, I could stop worrying so much.

I tucked the map back into my pocket, and took a deep breath. I dashed as fast as my bony legs could go. As much as I hated to run, I knew this was important.

I got a few looks from the pedestrians that I passed. I'm sure each one was wondering whatever it was that was so important that costed me an almost accident of running into them. I didn't bother saying sorry to any of them, since it's not like I would ever see them again anyway.

I noticed the sun was beginning to set, since it was winter, and it seemed the sun was going down earlier and earlier each day. I hated it. Not only that, but I hated the fact that I'd walking in pitch darkness.

God, I wish I had brought a flashlight.

I did bring pepper spray, though. Not that it'd help much, but Mariah was big on safety, especially since my father has some fucked up fans. They were crazy, and they'd do anything to meet him. So, my dad made it mandatory that I brought something to defend myself whenever I went out. Nobody knew I was my dad's daughter, but I was sure some crazy fan would find me out on the internet somehow. Everyone famous has their own Wikipedia, including their family members, and I don't even understand how they know all the stuff they do about me. It's a bit freaky, and I don't like thinking about it. Though, I realized that is the one thing he ever did that showed he cared for my safety, I was never allowed outside with a weapon in defense, and for that, I was thankful.

But I would never tell him that.

Besides there was another time that I actually attended one of his concerts with him. I was like, six years old. He was on stage, and a fire had broken lose through the building. The first thing he did was call my name. I remember running to him, not really understanding what was happening. He quickly picked me up into his arms, and took me to safety. That was actually one of my earliest memories. Before all that, is a bit of a blur to me.

I had been running for nearly forty minutes now, it was on and off, and I felt so winded, that at the moment, I was ready to just die. Death sounded more appealing than running another five feet.

But I couldn't stop.

I had to make the bus.

I had about six more blocks to run down before I could even see the bus stop. I wanted to internally groan in exhaustion.

I realized my shoelace had come undone. The moment I saw it, was the very moment that I had accidentally stepped on it, causing me to tumble forward, and nearly kill myself by missing a pole not even an inch away from my head.

I had used my hands for a non-murderous landing, which had scraped them to the point that they were now covered in blood, and cuts. The sting was terrible, I couldn't bear to even look at them without wanting to cry from the pain.

The only good thing that came from the fall, was that no one saw it, or if they did, they didn't try to humiliate me and come over too see if I was okay.

Even if it would probably be the humane thing to do, nobody seemed to care about that.

After tying my shoe, -and trying not to cry as I had to use my fingers to do so. I walked the rest of the way. Staring at my hands the whole time, not even bothering to watch where I was going. It didn't take long for me to make it down to the bus stop without even realizing it.

I checked the time on the purple watch I had on my wrist, which had said 5:26. I wanted to lift my arms and praise God for the perfect timing.

Too bad I couldn't raise my hands in worry they'd crack and bleed even more.

I sat on a bench, next to a very tall black woman who noticed my hands. Honestly, the first thing I noticed about her was how beautiful she was. She had to be in her late forties, but she was very kind looking.

"Are you alright, honey?" She asked, concern filled her tone. "What happened to your hands?"

I nodded quickly, "Yeah, I'm fine, I just fell while running."

"It looks so painful, do you need me to help you?"

"No." I forced a smile, though the burning seemed to be increasing, "I'm fine, thank you."

She nodded, but seemed to not believe me, "Where are you heading, child? On a bus all alone?"

"To my grandma's." I lied, quickly. "She gets lonely so I thought I'd spend the Holidays with her." I pointed to the book-bag filled with clothes that hung on my shoulder.

The look on her face softened, "That's very sweet of you, honey. I couldn't imagine my daughter ever doing that for my mother."

"I'm sure she would, if given the chance." Why was I talking to this woman, anyway? It's not like I knew her, or her bratty daughter.

She chuckled, "Whoever raised you, did it right." I wanted to laugh. If only she knew.

We sat in silence for the rest of the time. The bus finally came, and we both boarded. I sat alone, and closed my eyes. My heart seemed to be still racing from my -at least- six mile run. No matter how I felt now, I still couldn't shake the feeling that it was completely worth it.