Well Beyond

10

I startle awake as the plane lands, my heart racing. I sigh, roughly running my hands through my matted hair. I'm sure I look as much of a mess as I feel. Grabbing my bag from the floor, I stand up and prepare to de-board the plane.

Stepping into the terminal, I take in my surroundings. The airport is eerily quiet. A glance at the flight information screen makes me frown: 3:24 AM. I spot a small food stall, and my stomach growls at the sight. Rushing over, I buy two much-needed sandwiches and a bottle of water. Without waiting, I rip into the sandwich wrappers, devouring them at a breakneck pace and gulping water between bites.

Tossing the wrappers into a trash can, I look around for an essentials store. My hand touches my hair, reminding me of the state I'm in. After wandering for a few minutes, I find a store and buy a small toothpaste, toothbrush, "travel size" hairbrush, hair ties, and deodorant. The cashier hands me the bag with a frown, clearly unimpressed with my appearance.

In the bathroom, I catch my reflection in the mirror and cringe. I look awful. My skin appears dull yet greasy, and my hair is a tangled mess. I've always been a full-figured woman, but my recent diet has left me looking fragile and sickly. The idea that someone like Erik would find me remotely attractive in this state makes me almost laugh. The mate bond must be a hell of a thing.

I use the soap from the sink to wash as much of my body as I can, thankful for the limited number of people around. Brushing my teeth frantically, I savor the feeling of cleanliness. It's been way too long since I've felt this clean. I swipe on some deodorant, finishing my quick clean-up.

Carefully, I brush out my hair, spending several minutes untangling the mats and knots. I gently part my hair down the middle and French braid each side to hide the excess oiliness. Satisfied, I pack my new toiletries into my bag. I look at myself in the mirror, my eyes stuck on my obviously dirty clothes. 

Exiting the bathroom, I wander the terminal for a few minutes, mulling over my next steps. My eyes catch sight of a small pop-up store for women and children's clothing. I venture inside, frowning at the limited selection. Most of the adult items are dresses, and I scrunch my nose in mild distaste as I browse. My mind begins to drift, and I pick up a dark yellow sundress adorned with a pattern of flowers and leaves.

I sigh and take the dress to the cashier. I don't care about fashion at this point; I just need something clean to wear.

"Do you want a bag?" the cashier asks.

I shake my head. "No, thanks. Is it okay if I just stuff it in my bag?"

She nods. "No problem, just keep the receipt," she says, handing it to me.

I accept the receipt, twisting my bag to my chest. I hastily stuff the dress and receipt into the bag, then zip it up. I quickly exit the store, my thoughts racing. I need to think about my next move, about how to get out of this situation. What would Mom and Dad do? They would know what to do.

I find a quiet corner and sit down, taking a deep breath. My mind is a whirlwind of possibilities, each more daunting than the last. Chewing on my lip, I contemplate leaving the country. My eyes find a service desk that appears to be open for an airline. I approach the gate agent desk, and the agent doesn't look up at first, engrossed in his phone. When he realizes I'm still standing there, he raises a brow at me.

"Excuse me," I start, trying to sound composed. "When is the next international flight out of here?" 

The gate agent sets his phone down with a huff and a scowl. He leans forward in his seat, wiggling the mouse to awaken the computer. With a few clicks, he pulls up the flight information.

"Next flight is to Madrid, Spain. It leaves at 7:15 AM," he replies, causing me to groan inwardly.

"I'll take it," I say, trying to hide my frustration.