A FIREFLY IN FLIGHT || Quil Ateara

one; photograph.

AUTHORS NOTE: I'm posting this because fuck it and I'm stressed because idk if it's good so pls be nice to me or just bully me gently I guess idk

She didn't sleep at all as they drove through California. For a long time, she just stared out at the paved streets and hoards of traffic as they went by.

The traffic lights stung her tired eyes, flares of green, red and amber altering the perspective of her surroundings. The driver made four stops; two so everyone could get food, and two the other two for bathroom breaks. While the others who got on and off at their various locations, Rosemary only ducked down in her seat at the back of the bus and kept a grip on the hood of her jacket.

Once they were in Oregon, she began to relax a little bit. Only a handful of people were awake now, and none made any movement towards her. They all sat near the front. Though the coastline was beautiful, and the moon glinting off the water was enough to light up her immediate surroundings, Rosemary didn't lower her guard.

Somewhere near the halfway point of the seven and a half hour drive through Oregon, she began dozing. On and off, and only for a few minutes each, but it was the best she could do.

It was in Port Angles that she allowed herself to get off the bus as that was where it ended.

Rosemary stayed in the bus terminal for an hour, drinking hot chocolate and eating her cup-of-noodles while trying to gather her thoughts. She would be the first one to admit that this plan wasn't remotely thought out.

Peter Clearwater could have reasons to hate Gran, or maybe had Dementia or Alzheimer's and wouldn't recognize the name at all.

Or maybe there was some kind of feud with their families; the Eyton side of her was incredibly stubborn and quick to anger, which was most obvious in her mother and grandmother. When she used to spend time with her father, he would always blame their divorce on that.

Or, as he was the same age as Gran and she was nearing 86, Peter Clearwater could be dead. This could be completely pointless.

But this person knew where her mother lived as well as her mothers boyfriend, where her grandmother was, all of her fathers homes and his girlfriend, and he had easily found her new apartment. Both her paternal grandparents died ages ago, and she didn't believe for a second anyone else related to her father would help her. Apparently, she was too much like her marriage-ruining mother.

So as useless as this may be, it was her last option.

With this decision made, Rosemary made her way up to the purchasing counter and asked the lady to get her a ticket on the bus that would take her directly to La Push. The best offer they could do was a bus straight to Forks and she would have to find a way from there herself.

It was better than nothing, so she would take it.

The bus ride to Forks was much shorter than any of the time between stops, just a little over an hour.

She was dropped off outside of a store just off the highway called Newton's Sporting Goods, which seemed to be one of the only large buildings in town. A dozen of old cars were parked in the lot outside, most of the occupants were older than her mother. Closer to Gran's age.

A gentle drizzle of rain fell, creating puddles on the pavement and a general dampness in the air. It was beautiful, just as Gran had said. Beautiful, quiet, and seemingly nowhere.

He couldn't possibly find her here.

Not when she left everything behind, paid everything in cash, and got rid of all the easy alterations she made to her body to strengthen the difference between herself and Aster. She had foregone the green contacts Aster wore and simply had her brown eyes. Her bleached hair had been dyed back to its normal brown in the small bathroom on the bus. All of her cards, her belongings, were left in her mother's house in Los Angeles.