The Day(s) I Died {Book 1 - Completed}

11

selcouth

(adj.) unfamiliar, strange, and yet marvelous

***

When you have moved to a different city as many times as I, you learn several things.

Some are common knowledge: Avoid creepy men with leering eyes, listen to the locals, research the weather and job availability before you move, and so on.

Others are more important and less known, solely because they only apply to people with the whole "I can die and still live" problem: Use cash whenever possible, avoid neighbors as much as possible, hair dye is your friend, don't present your fake ID unless absolutely necessary, and so on.

The most important of these lesser known rules is as follows: Pack light and be quick. When you die and come back to life, it is critical that you leave town before anyone recognizes you and is given the chance to ask, "Hey, didn't you just die?"

Trust me, that is not a fun conversation to have (or avoid, which is the option I recommend).

Furthermore, since I do not own a car (which I believe is an advantage), I have always had to use other forms of transportation when moving to a new city. Buses, taxis, subways—anything at all will do, but it requires minimal luggage.

It is for this reason that I have gotten used to keeping a duffel, a purse, and my sleeping bag; those are the only objects I take with me, and they allow me to make a quick, seamless escape regardless of where I end up next.

Perhaps it is because of this habit (and the fact that I have once gotten out of a town in under fifteen minutes) that I am flummoxed when I open my apartment door on Saturday morning to find Selah on the other side, surrounded by boxes.

Eyes narrowing, I scoff. "The hell is all this, Kid? You taking the whole apartment with you or something?"

She frowns, confused as she looks at the boxes and then back up at me. "What do you mean, Vivian? I packed, just like Abel told me to."

I feel a presence over my shoulder, and I know said man is right behind me now. "Don't listen to Vivian," he says with ease, his breath blowing against the side of my head and rustling my hair. "Good work, Se. Let's bring it downstairs to my car, alright? We should be able to fit it all."

Right. I'm so used to walking everywhere that I often forget about Abel's truck.

"Does she need it all?" I ask, nonetheless bending down to snatch up a few of the boxes. Abel is quick to shoot me a scolding look, one that clearly reads Shut up, Vivian!, but Selah just shrugs shyly.

"I didn't know what to leave and what to take." She looks so embarrassed and lost that I mentally kick myself.

Stepping over to her, I bump her hip with mine. "Hey, Kid, no worries; I'm just teasing, I promise. Let's get it downstairs, alright? Chin up, now."

She lifts her head, smiling brightly at me before grabbing some of the other boxes and darting down the stairs.

I take the moment to face Abel and mention an important issue. "Beck is going to be pissed when he finds her gone." The man is at work at the moment, and he'll probably get back late and drunk, but eventually—when he sobers up—he'll realize Selah has left him and lose his mind.

Abel shoots me a look I am familiar with—a look of sarcastic Oh, no shit, really? that I myself am excellent at giving to others. "Which is why he won't find us."

"That's optimistic," I retort pointedly. The drive individuals like Beck possess is rather impressive, if not terrifying.

His dark eyes flash with annoyance at the truth in my words. "You're a pain in my ass, Vivian."