𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 | 𝟏𝟖+

2

"Excuse me...may I have one ticket to Las Vegas, please?" I say to the woman behind the counter, wringing my hands together.

"Sure thing, hon. Fifty bucks," she replies, the clatter of keys punctuating the transaction.

I pull the cash out of my pocket, count out the crumpled bills with trembling hands, and hand them over. The woman hands me the ticket, and suddenly, my stomach starts doing somersaults. I glance at the woman, debating if I should ask for a refund.

I look around, half-expecting my husband to come find me and drag me back home. The urge to turn around and forget this whole crazy plan grows stronger with each passing second. I'm about to tell her I've changed my mind when the bus pulls up right behind me.

I turn around but my feet feel like they're rooted to the ground, and I can't seem to take the step forward. The bus looms in front of me, suddenly seeming more like a menacing beast than a vehicle. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I think of Penny.

I have to do this.

So, before I can second-guess myself any more, I hop on the bus and settle into my seat. As the bus pulls away, I lay my head against the window, watching everything I've ever known shrink into the rear view as tears run down my cheeks. I clasp my hands together and pray, begging God to watch over Penny until I can come back for her.

The bus ride stretches on for six long hours, and I drift off to sleep. When the bus grinds to a halt, I jolt awake, gathering my meager belongings before stepping off.

The atmosphere hits me like a ton of bricks– the lights, the noise, the crowds of people. Money is tight, so I decide to walk instead of spending the little money I have on a taxi.

As I aimlessly walk down the street. Curious eyes follow my every move. In the sea of short skirts, exposed skin, and seemingly lifeless bodies—here I am, feeling like a time traveler in my ankle-length dress. The stares might sting, but I keep walking.

No turning back now.

I spot a trio of ladies on a street corner that look like they've walked out of a movie. One is a taller woman with blue hair, wearing what might pass as a napkin, not a dress. Next to her, a goddess in pink, rocking heels so high, I'm surprised her ankles aren't broken. Then there's a shorter one, brown curls cascading down to, well, some really noticeable assets.

I gather some courage and decide to approach them. They're talking and laughing, the city's heartbeat thumping behind them. "Hi...excuse me, I-I'm Catherine," I say, nervously interrupting their conversation. "I'm looking for the nearest motel or something. Can any of you help me out?"

The woman with the blue hair turns to me, giving me a once-over. "What the hell are you wearing?" she shoots at me with a snarky attitude.

The brown haired woman shoots me a curious glance. "Um, what's an Amish person doing in Vegas?" she asks with a chuckle.

I nervously laugh, "Oh...I'm not Amish. I just escaped from the Order, um, a polygamist marriage thing and ended up here."

The blue-haired woman gives me a raised eyebrow, "Soooo a cult basically?"

"Yeah...sure, basically" I nod, feeling a bit uneasy.

The woman in the pink dress' eyes soften. "Gia...give her a break" she says, shooting a disapproving look at the blue-haired woman. "That sounds tough, Catherine. What's your plan, girl?"

I shrug, "I'm not sure, just trying to figure it out as I go, maybe find a job or something. Try to come up with some money to go back and get my daughter."