A Few Dangerous Miles

7 Months Earlier

7 Months Earlier

Ollie sat at an empty bus stop. It was cold, and she hadn't eaten in days. She'd turned to begging and stealing, which had provided her some money. She was shaking in her winter coat. Her hair was unwashed and tangled. She'd been showering in bathroom sinks. Her shoes were wearing out and she needed a place to wash her clothes. There was snow on the ground, and some was starting to fall. It was twilight and she had just woke up. It was her only time to wander without eyes constantly glued to her. She knew she looked awful, and everyone else did too.

Olympia Washington was where she made it to. The money she took from home only lasted her about a month. She had planned to go to Seattle, but stopped because she was running low on cash. She didn't think it was so bad though. There were worse places. There was a decent homeless population in Olympia so she was able to lay low. They were having record temperatures that spring so it was best to sleep when it was warm and move around at night.

Bus headlights approached. Ollie climbed up the stairs and into the mouth of the bus. It was nearly empty, except for a few bums like herself. She made her way to the very back and sat down. With the small amount of money she'd made in recent days she was going to buy food, as most people would. There was a cheap bar on the other side of town that she frequented often. She was struggling to survive. Olympia had its shelters but she stayed away from those for fear of being sent back home. She was underage and on the missing persons list. Given, that was a few states away, but she wanted to be safe.

The restaurant/bar she went to was dingy and stuffy. It was Friday night, the epitome of bar crowds. She sat at a table against the back wall and ordered chicken from the kids menu because it was cheaper. It was enough food for her. The restaurant walls were brick, and covered in neon signs. Irish folk music played in the background. Typical, she thought. Finally the waitress brought her food which was gone in a blink. She hadn't been so full in weeks. On the next table over there was an unguarded pack of cigarettes someone must have forgotten. She hadn't had one of those in a long time. The itch of anticipating nicotine crawled over her skin. She casually walked by the table and picked up the pack, then went out the back door for a smoke.

It had gotten colder. She fumbled around in her bag for a lighter. The wind made it hard to light the cigarette. She got it though. It was a much needed break from her constant stress. It was quiet outside. There were buildings surrounding the alley, shielding it from the street lamp's glow. This is nice, she thought.

A man walked towards her from around the corner. He was older, around fifty. He had an expression on his face that made Ollie shudder. She hoped he would walk past her and go inside. But he approached her and stood too close.

"Hey there little lady, how much?" His breath smelled like alcohol. Ollie got mistaken for a hooker fairly often. She never understood why, her skin was always covered to the best of her ability.

"I'm not a whore, fuck off."

"You look like you could use the money." She could use the money, but she'd rather die.

"Get the fuck away from me." His hand was on her mouth, and the other one on her shoulder. She tried biting and kicking, but she was too weak. The sound that escaped his hand was lost in the long halls of the alley.

"I'd pay you for this if you'd only calm down." A younger guy walked out of the back door. He noticed what was going on, this was no normal display of affection. He pulled the old man from Ollie.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Mind your own fucking business." The young guy looked at Ollie who was obviously shaken up. He punched the old man in the face hard as he could. He could feel brittle teeth break under the pressure. One punch was enough to make the old man hold his jaw in pain.