Sane

Chapter One | My Shoplifting Instructor

I shove the gray hood over my head, duck down, eyes on the ground. I watch my dirty navy blue sneakers take each step very carefully. Tucking my freezing cold hands into my black jean pockets, I stroll past the produce section. The smell of fresh strawberries and blueberries makes my mouth water, and I begin to wonder how long has it been since I had some fresh, clean fruit.

I push the thought out of my mind, as I find my way towards the correct aisle. I slowly raise my head, glancing around at the shelves full of chips, fruit snacks, crackers, and a whole lot of junk food. I look to my left, then right, seeing that no one is here. I steadily grab a bag of Sun Chips and tuck it under my hoodie.

Making sure no one is in this aisle, again, I reach up and snatch the box of fruit snacks. I hurriedly open the box, tearing out two small packets. I tuck them into my pocket, stuffing my hands in after them. I throw the box to the back of the shelf and walk a little faster towards the front of the store.

Consumed in my thoughts, I keep walking fast. A hard surface hits me in the shoulder, making me trip, letting the bag of Sun Chips fall to the floor. I catch myself before I fall, whipping my head in the direction of what I ran into. To my amazement and frustration, it was an older teenage boy. He looks at me, and then his gaze drops to the bag of chips.

The corner of his mouth slowly twitches, smirking.

He glances around quickly, bends down, and picks up the bag of chips. He grabs my wrist and pulls me into an aisle. I struggle to get out of his grip, but it's too firm. I keep my head down, not ready to show my face. "If you're trying to steal, one of the simplest rules is: don't run into someone." He tells me. Who is this guy? Giving me tips on how to shoplift?

"Keep your head down, but eyes up." He says next.

I yank on my wrist, and he lets it go. "Are you going to look at me or not?" He asks, sounding a little frustrated. I don't move. "Dude, I just helped you out. Can I at least see your face? Don't be a coward." He says, making me want to just run off. But I do as he wishes.

I reach up and yank my hood down, letting my long hair fall down onto my chest, and look up at him. He has thick brown hair, shoved to the side of his face. His hazel eyes widen, as he scans my face. "You're a girl." He stutters.

I roll my eyes. "And you're a boy." I say, clearing my throat.

"Um sorry. I didn't think-"

"I know. Now can you just let me take my chips and go?" I ask, getting annoyed by this boy, who thinks he's a professional shoplifter.

He tosses the chips back to me, and I tuck them back under my hoodie.

I throw the hood back over my head and walk away without saying a word. I make it to the exit, and stroll out. I pull the chips out of my hoodie, and open them up as I begin my walk down the side of the busy road. Sun Chips had never tasted so good in my life. I haven't eaten since yesterday's moldy cheese.

A car honks behind me. A little blue 91 Camaro, stuck in the traffic, lies right behind me. The driver's seat window rolls down and the brunette jerk is sitting inside. "Need a ride?" He yells at me.

"No." I respond, continuing to walk.

"You know you want to." He shouts back.

I look at the Camaro. I really do want a ride. My legs feel as if they may fall off, I'm tired, and haven't slept in forty-eight hours. I groan at the sky before sliding off my hood and jumping into the passenger seat with the stranger.

I keep my eyes straight ahead, as he slowly moves forward in the traffic. I feel his eyes on me as I throw two chips into my mouth. "If you're still hungry after that, there's food in the back." He tells me, rolling his fingers through his thick hair. I slowly turn around to look in the back seat. There's a bunch of snacks, waters, and soda, that looks as if it was just chucked back there.

"Is this all stolen?" I ask quietly.

"Does it matter?" He asks, biting the side of his lip and glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

I shake my head, sitting back, and stuffing more chips into my mouth. I'm stuck in traffic with a thief. Great.

He clears his throat. "I'm Forrest."

I whip my head in his direction. That was a weird but cool name, and I start to wonder if that's his actual name. I decide to believe him when I see the seriousness in his eyes. He stares back at me.

"And you are?" He asks.

"Oh. Um... Willow." I shrink back into my chair and look out my window, avoiding eye contact. I haven't talked to someone like this, besides my little brother, since I left. I remember now how much I hate talking.

"Willow? Like the tree?" He asks, and I can hear the smile in his words.

"Yeah." I mutter, realizing his name is Forrest. I roll my eyes at the irony and keep them out the window. I finish my chips, and fold the bag up before stuffing it in my hoodie pocket, feeling the fruit snacks beneath my fingers. I crave them so much, but I can't. I shake my head, resisting the temptation. I pull my hand back out and fold my legs, tugging them against my chest on the seat.

The Camaro jerks forward, moving through the traffic. I hear Forrest swallow hard. "So why are you on your own?" He asks.

I look up at the roof of the car. "Do you have to ask so many questions?" I moan. He shrugs.

"I'm on my own because I want to be." I answer, resting my head against the window, watching Forrest nod slowly.

I'm not exactly alone. I have a little brother to watch over. He's the reason I was shoplifting. Why am I lying to this jerk? Because it's easy.

"I don't believe that." He bends his neck towards me, glaring.

"I don't care if you believe me or not," I tell him, "I just wanted a ride, not an interview."

"Where you headed?" He asks, as the car begins to move again.

"Just drop me off at the diner on Center Street." I explain.

"Thanks for the ride." I mutter, stepping out of the car.

"No problem. You do have somewhere to sleep tonight, right?" Forrest asks.

I slam the door shut on him, the cold air blowing against my face. My long dirty blonde hair whips into my face, and I ignore it. The gravel and small rocks bounce against each other beneath my sneakers. I stroll up to the diner, turning around to see if Forrest had left. He hadn't. He was still sitting in his car, watching me.

I roll my eyes, and turn back to the diner. I open the door and step inside, getting warm. I start making my way around booths and tables, getting a few random stares. I find the exit and swing the door wide open. I do a mild jog into the old storage garage.

I sigh, looking around. "Oakley?" I silently yell.

"Oak!" I shout again. A pile of blonde fluffy hair appears up from the old, dusty couch. "Willow!" He smiles, running up to me and wrapping his tiny little arms around my waist. "Hey Oak. I brought you something." I reach into my hoodie pocket and pull out the fruit snack bags, tossing them at him.

A huge smile appears again on his round face, making my day. "What have you been up to?" I ask him, rubbing my fingers through his thick, long hair. He hasn't had a haircut since we left, and neither have I. My hair is layered around my face though, shorter in the front, long in the back. But Oak's hair is in his face. I frown, regretting the fact that I didn't pick up scissors when I was at the store.

"I was just reading." He shrugs, tearing open the bag of fruit snacks. "Nothing's changed." I sigh, smirking at my seven- year old brother.

I cough into my arm, walking to the pile of clothes thrown on the floor. I slide off my hoodie and throw on a soft, blue long sleeved shirt. I walked over to the old couch, collapsing on it. Oakley sits right next to me, his head resting on my shoulder. An old television sat in front of us, barely working. I can only make out a few words.

"Required... Injected... To help... Doing what is best... Go to... hospital." I sit there, not even trying to figure out what the old woman is trying to tell us. I click the off button on the side of the television. I lean my head on top of Oak's, eyelids heavy. I can't sleep. I need to stay awake. We're not safe here. We're not safe anywhere, anymore.

My body didn't listen to my mind, as I fell into a deep sleep.