I lied on my bed, unable to form a single incoherent thought. After successfully shattering my phone, breaking it in two, and putting it in a glass of water, I prayed they didn't manage to track me.
My notebook.
That's what had fallen out of my bag. They found it. I lost it. I don't know which one I was more upset about. I didn't want them to have it in their possession and I didn't want it to not be in my possession.
Great.
I listened to the police radio and could barely pay attention. The conversations were staticky and boring. Either about speeding or running a stoplight. There words were muffled by the room that was small and cluttered with the limited furniture.
"Yea we think that all the people that were murdered all visited the old paper factory before the died."
I bolted upright and turned my head towards the police scanner. Holding my breath, I listened so intensely it made my head hurt.
"I can't check it out for at least two hours."
"The earliest anyone can even get down there would be around 4." Another voice statically chimed in.
4?
That was an hour and a half from now which I could easily go check out in that time. I guess I just stumbled upon a case.
Changing into jeans and a sweater, I dug around in my bag for my knife, gun, salt , the norm.
"Ow damn." I hissed while I yanked my hand out of the pocket. There was a tiny cut on my index finger and a small amount of blood began to form. Wiping it on my pants I looked for the source of the almost deadly injury.
Four crumpled and distressed photos were shoved at the bottom. I tried to straighten them out as nicely as I could but it didn't do much good.
One was of Sam, dean, and I. It was from a few months ago. I looked much different. My face seemed not so... hard. My skin and eyes were bright as well as my smile. Turning around and looking into the mirror, I finally took in my reflection. Dark circles under my eyes from months of lack of sleep. They complimented the frizziness in my hair that I didn't spend anytime on. Besides the cuts, bruises, scrapes, and burns etc. I counted to scars that riddled my face and arms. 14. And that was what wasn't covered up by my clothes.
Turning my attention back to the photos I looked at the boys faces.
Happy.
They were happy.
They were-
3:09
Throwing the photos in one of my many jacket pockets, I yanked on my converse, grabbed anything else I needed, and sprinted out the door on the motel room.
••••••••
Note:
Hey so I've been hella busy
School, work, etc. (I haven't slept in once since school started)
But I'm getting back into this and I'm super sorry!!
Message me on ig :)
Find me on other social media (where I'm more active) and chat with me because I love talking to everyone!!!
Thank you all again!
It has SOO many reads it's unreal
Renee :)
Ig: @reneegiza @naygiza
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