Destination 1974

Chapter 17

|I've made choices that has driven me to become a wanted fugitive|

~***~

I'm moved into a holding cell, all by myself, and not a single person nearby. The guards are outside of the room filled with empty cells, and I pace back and forth, contemplating that entire conversation. The door to the jail room opens, and I see Clyde approach my cell. He looks over his shoulder as the guard locks him in the hallway. Clyde glances over his shoulder one last time while whispering, "I think we're actually alone now."

"What the f***, Clyde?"

"Hey, you started revealing too much and burying yourself deeper into the grave. I had to stop you from ruining your chances of ever getting out of here," Clyde explains as he searches around the room. He looks back to me and simply whispers, "why didn't you kill me?"

"I - uhh... what?"

"I'm not blind. I saw the gun in your bag back at the motel. I wanted to believe it wasn't for me," he lets out a deep breath, "I saw you in the reflection of one of the windows surrounding the pool that night."

"Sh!t."

"Yeah, no kidding," he doesn't roll his eyes, but he goes through the motion as if he's doing so, "now tell me, why didn't you pull the trigger?"

I shrug, "I dunno."

"No more bull****, Mona," he raises an eyebrow and keeps his hands in his pockets as he stares at me like a dog waiting for its treat.

"I didn't shoot you because..." I look down at my shoes. The same boots he put on for me after he chased me in the field, and then we pushed his truck to a gas station right after. All the advice he's given me, and the memories we share; it causes a warm fuzzy feeling to build up inside of me. I don't feel like I need to scratch at my skin with him, "because you allow me to feel."

I look up into his eyes, "you make me feel free. Like I can finally do things for myself, and nobody else but me." Clyde smiles. It's subtle and filled with multiple emotions, but it's an honest smile. One filled with gratitude.

"I need to save him," I mumble as the epiphany strikes.

"Save who?" Clyde's hands slip out of his pockets.

"That boy," I gesture my handcuffed arms, "the little boy that recently went missing --" I pause, "-- my parents, they're trying to invite him into our family as we speak. I need to stop it."

"What? Where are they?" Clyde's voice is loud as he grips the rusty bars, "we have to tell someone --"

"-- The police will slow us down Clyde, and you know it," I blink, hoping he sees what I can see. His grip loosens up ever so slightly, "I need to get out and stop this little boy from ruining his life."

"What do you mean?"

"How do you think children become part of the family? They have to share the same parents, and do as they ask," I grab the bars, "all this time, did you think my parents killed those couples?" I lean close, awaiting his response. He doesn't say anything and just gulps.

"Clyde, the children kill their own parents."

"Did you kill your parents?"

"No," I sigh, "they did. A long time ago," a tear escapes my eye, and I wipe it away quickly, "and they killed my sister too, I think..."

"Who's your sister?"

"Doesn't matter. What matters is they convinced me that we were searching for her, and many children to become one big happy family. As I grew older, I started to see how f***ed up this whole thing was. I was the unfortunately lucky one that they liked - that they kept."