Thalia

Chapter 26: Unintentional Freedom

Chapter 26: Unintentional Freedom

"Hit me." I bring my hand down, slamming my empty cup that previously had apple juice in it, on the counter. There's a reason why I don't consume alcohol and drugs and it's not because I was taught about the dangers; it's because I'll be a threat to society if I ever get a hold of alcohol. Come on--a superhero on drugs? That's a recipe for global destruction.

The bartender for Purple Moon just contorts his face and glares at me as he takes my drink away for a refill. He probably thinks I'm a psychotic child who got a hold of a school I.D. I wouldn't blame him either since I'm dressed like a top-notch gang-banger, all disheveled and drinking juice like it's heroine. Oh great; I went from apple juice to heroine. If I were my parents, I would've disowned me a while ago and thrown me into the penguin patch at the zoo.

Progressively, the music gets louder and I feel like absolute garbage. I start to fiddle with a penny that's laying on the counter and twirl it around the wood with my finger. Soon enough, the penny slides from my grip and hits a plastic container with the missing people's report on it taht holds coins in the donation box. 

The photo on it looks oddly familiar and as my eyes try to focus from my previous crying and snot explosion, it becomes clear. Point-blank-period clear. The reason why I know the photo and why it seemed to hit a nerve. 

It's a photo of Misty with her arm slung around the guy who just walked away with my cup. She looks happier than usual and her purple hair streak is in the process of fading. He looks nonchalant as if he doesn't give a care in the world even though they're directly in front of The White House. If she's in the picture, maybe he actually knows something about her that no one else would. Then I could track her down and explain everything. I won't be imprisoned! Freedom is mine, all mine!

I may have had one drink too many.

Though I never thought there'd be a day where I'd be saving Misty from any kind of situation because I "care" about her. I don't. I'm doing this because I don't like it when people refuse to share lunch food because I supposedly made a person go missing. It's not even that big of a deal. People overreact all of the time, I tell you.

From around the dividing wall, the bartender comes back with my apple juice filled to the brim of my Elmo-themed sippy cup. I take the lid I laid down and screw it back on to the top, still sort of upset with everything and not sure how to approach this guy. I mean, if you wanted to ask me, I'd high-tail my butt up out of here with the daggers he's giving everyone. Sure I'm a hero, but I can tell an axe-murderer when I see one.

"Thanks." My voice tremurs as I speak. Real cool. "Um," I squint my eyes towards his name tag. Brock. Ohmygosh he even has the homicidal name. "Brock?" Unecessary gulp. At the mention of his name, he stops in the middle of wiping the counter top and perks up his eyebrows towards me. "Do you happen to know a Misty Harper by any chance?" You ratchet girl, he has a stinking picture with her. Don't be stupid, of course he knows her!

A small frown makes its way onto his face as he stands tall and scratches his beard. "Uh, yeah. She was my cousin. Why? Do you know her? Were you close?"

We were really close. . . to strangling each other. "Not really. We knew each other, though. Do you happen to know anywhere she would be? I mean, I know she's missing and everything but have you thought of where she could've gone if she wasn't kidnapped and just ran away?" Goodness, I sound like I don't have a heart. "I know your cousin was kidnapped or whatever but are you sure you actually tried to get her help and found out where she went, because to me, you haven't." 

So inconsiderate.

The rag in his hand starts oozing bleachy-cleaner as his hands grip it tighter. Maybe I could've been a little more compassionate. "I never actually tried to find out where she could've gone to. Misty's not the type to run away from home, girl. If she ran away, she'd eventually hit the trees that border most of the state and she hates trees. And pennies. Don't forget pennies. So no; I don't know where she could've gone because someone took her. She didn't run away  or vanish in thin air." There's a sharp edge to his voice. One that those dramatic documentaries have about the polar bears that make you wonder if it's just a pedophile in its natural habitat or if they're using a voice enhancer.