Twisted Allegiance

Chapter 3

Dirt crunched beneath her feet, the dry leaves crying out in loud crunches as she stepped on them carefully not to ruin her clothes. Halting in her steps and looking up at the bright sky, she ran a hand through her damp hair.

Bad choice! Should've taken his words seriously and not as a sarcastic remark!

Barely keeping a foot ahead she stumbled on the rocks, the broken piece of her heel glared at her from a distance, reminding her,

Bad choice!

Struggling through the poking of thorns and slip of the wet rocks she moved on, tearing fabric of her maroon pencil skirt, she could only wish her beige top hadn't gotten wet of mist and dew.

It would be a true disaster, she thought.

What is it with my clothes getting messed up these past few days? Can God not have mercy on me for once? , she scoffed out loud making the bald head infront of her turn around and look at her suspiciously.

"I am not trying anything," she declared raising her hand in mock surrender.

Maybe all of them are same, cold and heartless bastards!

The duo walked along the cracked and bent , rough trail. The shrubs poking her legs leaving small scratches. It was new for her, the prim and proper Savannah to walk through those patchy trails surrounded by shrubs and bushes.

Note to self; Never wear heels and a labelled outfit for a meeting with Milo.

Milo.
The name was still a mystery to her.
Going online to research the identity?

Fruitless.

Asking around to the random remaining contacts she had?

No use.

Whoever this was had maintained an identity so secretive that nothing except the coffee and it's meaning and random social media accounts came up on searching.

"How long till we reach wherever the meeting is?"

"Just some more walking."

Nice, a curt reply again.

How did I end up in this mess again?

-

-

A night ago.

Pit!

Pat!

Pit!

Pat!

Pit!

She watched as the droplets ran down the window pane, watching them race against one another unconsciously aware to the blurring of the city sceneries behind them. The cars, and their bright lights, the tall buildings and the roaming pedestrians all passing by in a blur. A soft sigh escaped her lips. The warmth of coffee in her hand was slowly receding to nothingness.

It was funny how the pedestrians and the people in the cars seemed so carefree except a few maybe but the reality was far from it. Each of them had their own struggle, each of them suffered unbeknownst to the passing viewer's eye.

Suffering comes in every form.

A drop of rain fell in the coffee cup adding into her frustration. She was desperately waiting for whoever Milo was to schedule a meeting or call or email or any form of affirmation or negation from him for whether she was employed or unemployed, tired of telling herself just one more day and this can be over, I won't have to lie to my mom about what is going on, I wouldn't have to call dad with a fake identity band around my neck with no card.