Drunk

Prologue.

Copyright shit: dont steal my shit or reword it in anyway. all characters and placed (expect for london, england) have been made up. the plot belongs to moi, so just dont copy it cause it aint even good. also, please remember i have never been to england so if things dont seem right or off, keep that in mind and correct me. enjoy reading!

                                                           Prologue.

            This wasn’t the way Shy McKee’s life was supposed to turn out. She wasn’t supposed to be standing at a lone bus stop at two o’clock in the dark, windy morning. She wasn’t supposed to leave everything and everyone behind for somewhere she had only dreamed about.

            She had imagined her life from a young age; like the way they do in movies. She was supposed to grow up into a beautiful young adult, graduate high school with proper grades, go to college for a handful of years, get a job that suited her, get married to the man of her dreams, have two perfect kids, then finally die a peaceful death.

            But, then again, she had always been divergent from others.

            A “freak,” as people called her.

            People can be cruel. They say cruel words, do cruel things.

            And maybe that was the reason why Shy thought her closest, deepest friend was alcohol. Or how she found an eerie comfort whenever she thought about the last cigarette she smoked only brought her that much closer to death. She was ashamed of these thoughts, however, so she kept them to herself and her twisted mind.

            Why can’t I just be normal, Shy questioned, the thought running through her head like an annoying alarm clock; over and over it repeated itself endlessly.

            The night air was cold. Chilly wind blasted across Shy’s pale face, turning her nose pink. Her natural rosy cheeks felt numb, her teeth chatted together. She regretted wearing her worn leather jacket and a loose tank top underneath. The rips in her jeans allowed the free flowing air to find her trembling legs.

            Music pumped through the earphones Shy wore, she hoped it would keep her from returning home. With her heart beating fast behind her ribcage, she gripped the straps of her bookbag tight in her hands, her knuckles turning white. The rough material soaked up the sweat off her clammy palms.

            This was it. Shy was changing her mundane life. She had worked two jobs since her freshman year of high school, this idea of traveling across the world seemed to be burned into her brain. She had given herself a silent promise to herself that this day would come and it had finally arrived. Of course, no one believed her. Not her own mother, not her sister, and certainly not any of her non-existent friends. They waved Shy off as a babbling teen.

            A ghost of a smile twitched onto Shy’s chapped lips. She was proving them wrong while standing at the bus stop in her favorite—and only—pair of tattered combat boots. Luckily, she had managed to fit a descent amount of clothes into her book bag. In the back of her mind, Shy wondered her mom’s face when she would learn about the news of her daughter’s disappearance when she would read the note waiting patiently on Shy’s made bed.

Blinking rapidly as the wind hit her face, Shy looked down at her hand. The plane ticket seemed like it was burning, as if it was on fire. It scorched through her palm and up through her chest; it felt nice, real. It warmed her body from the inside out.

            From the distance, bright headlights cut through the dark night. Shy lifted a hand to pull a single ear bud from her ear. The public bus screeched to an abrupt halt, the sharp noise making her grimace.

            She had already been standing, pure adrenaline and nervousness making her too jumpy to sit. The bus stop was cleared of anything living, only the young blonde stood by herself.

            Shy watched as the bus door opened, heat from inside seemed to beckon to her. A butch looking man sat behind the wheel, dark circles and wrinkles adoring his aged face. Her hand dug into her pocket as she ascended the few stairs, placing the change into the money slot. Her arms crossed over her chest uncertainly as she walked down the aisle. Finally, when she sat the bus closed the doors, reminding her that there was no going back. The large vehicle lurched forward, and so did Shy’s uneasy stomach.

             The driver looked at the young woman. He noticed the way her eyes were wide, the way she fidgeted restlessly in her seat. She wasn’t the first runaway he had seen and definitely wouldn’t be his last. Although he was tired and hungry he spoke softly to the girl.

            “Where to, miss?” He didn’t turn as he started driving, for he already knew her destination.  

            Shy looked from outside the window, watching the bus stop vanish from her sight. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she wrung her hands roughly. 

            “The international airport, please.”