fugitive | griezmann

chapter one

merci les bleu
Nicole Castillo
Thursday, February 11th
Madrid, Spain

I pushed a sigh through my plump lips as I counted my money one more time. I had ran from Santo Domingo two weeks ago. I had my secret credit card and some cash left, but it wouldn't last me much longer.

I held the paper tightly in my hand and scanned the motel room. I needed to get on my feet and fast if I wanted my siblings back. This motel room was eating up my money.

Not to mention it was small. There was a couch against the wall that faced a small TV, the kitchen in the corner was rusted and smelled like mildew. The room was diagonal from the small sitting room, with just a bed and a nightstand. The bathroom was also in the bed room, and I thanked Jesus that it was clean enough for me to shower.

The old yellow couch creaked as I stood up. I gathered my new passport, my money, and a few papers and put it back into the small safe.

My past had corrupted everything that I was. I rubbed my temples roughly. My dad ruined everything. My mother, my siblings, and me.

I was dragged into this life without a say, and that's where it all went to pieces. I opened my tired eyes and pulled out my iPhone that I recently brought. Another bill that would eat up my money soon.

I searched for jobs that I could apply for, and many popped up. For the first time in a while, a small smile reached my face as I read there was an opening for a library.

The one good thing my father had done for me is let me finish high school and get my bachelors degree. Of course my mother was the one who had convinced him.

I had a degree in marketing since it could help me almost anywhere. The was an emergency opening at a small library should be a piece of cake.

I clicked the link and read the description.

The owner's wife had passed and he was looking for someone to take over while he took a six month vacation.

I bit my lip, it's a job right?

I could easily delegate tasks, arrange books, manage book orders and things of that such. Another part of my past that seemed to keep coming up. I was a damn good leader.

I searched the directions finding out it was only a short walk from here. I walked from my standing position to the bedroom where my suitcase was situated under the bed.

I pulled it out from under the bed and quickly searched through it for something appropriate. I put on a white tank top, a black blazer, and a pair of light jeans. I slipped on my black ankle boots and pushed my curls out of my face.

I checked to see if I had my room key, and then I ventured out into the streets of Madrid. I listened to the chatter of the people, and the sound that their feet made on the pavement.

I felt the frustration of moving slow in the air, and shoulders brushing past mine. My mind was elsewhere, worried about my ten year old brother and my four year old sister. I hated these circumstances even more than I hated my father.

I was limited to a ten minute call every two weeks and it wasn't nearly enough. Apparently they were being treated just fine in their foster home. There was many kids, but they weren't allowed to tell me their location.

I reached the library and stepped into the warm air, the bustle of the city disappearing as the door closed. The smell of books was overwhelming, and it make my shoulders sag in relaxation. I loved to read.

I walked slowly through the rows of books as my eyes scanned titles that were so familiar. I smiled softly as I ran my fingertips on my favorite childhood book. It was an American one, that my mother read to me as I grew up, and then my siblings.

"What would you like for me to read?" my mother asked while we searched our home library. My dad was doing a lot of wrong, but it had us living lavishly.

"Matilda!" my ten year old self exclaimed excitedly. My mom playfully rolled her eyes because she knew my answer before she asked.

She grabbed the tattered book from the shelf and then plopped down on the recliner by the fire. I scurried over to her and climbed into her warm lap. I looked up into her and she smiled down at me.

I put my head into her neck and listened to her as she began to read.

"Excuse me ma'am, do you need any help?" a voice asked making me snap out of my flashback. I had been staring at the yellow cover for a moment now, but I wasn't sure how long he had been there.

"I'm um, I'm looking for a job," I told the older man with a soft smile. His smile matched mine as he waved me on.

"I've been looking for someone for a week now, most young adults don't want to work somewhere boring," he explained after we settled down at one of the tables.

"I'll take a job anywhere sir."

I pulled out my résumé and he put his warm hand on mine.

"I don't judge character off of these things. Tell me why you want this job," he told me.

"I like being alone sometimes, and my mother loved to read. I'll do anything to feel close to her. I also want to lead a good life for my younger siblings, and being a librarian sounds like a great start."

He nodded his head, and then leaned forward.

"You're hired."

I widened my eyes.

"Is this a joke?"

"No ma'am, you're the only person who's came. And you're also the only person who wants to be here for a valid reason. You're hired," he repeated.

It took a moment before a genuine smile stretched on my lips.

"That's amazing sir, thank you."

He went over the basics, like when I should be here, when my first day is, and who will be working under me while he was gone.

It seemed incredibly simple and the pay was good. Thins were finally looking up.

"How long have you been in Madrid?"

I looked up at him as I signed some papers her had for me, "Two weeks."

He frowned. "Where are you staying?"

"In a small motel until I can get an apartment."

"Stay here, I have a nice apartment in the back. Just until you get on your feet?"

I was completely astonished. For a moment I feared that this was a set up by my father, but the sincerity in his eyes told me different.

"Are you sure sir?"

"Of course," he smiled. I smiled back, my heart leaping at the fact that I could have my siblings back sooner than I thought.

"My wife would've wanted me to do something good with her apartment while we were gone. I'll call you when everything this is cleared out and you can begin working."

I thanked him more times that I should've, and went back to my motel. I was happy for the first time in a long time, and I was ready to do right to get my brother and sister.