Pretty As A Proxy (Creepypasta x OCs)

Chapter 66

- Time Skip Three Years, Carisma's POV -

I stopped at a road sign and looked over it. " Three miles till truck stop. " I read the sign aloud. Groaning, I adjusted my dark red leather jacket and the black jacket underneath as well as my gray tank top and heavy backpack.

I continued to walk as my brown boots crunched under the thin layer of snow that had fallen earlier. Cars whipped past me on the highway and their sudden gusts of wind sent a chill down my spine.

I became a legal adult seven months ago. I can do what I want now, besides drink, but has that ever stopped anyone before? No.

I glanced around the many hills and mountains of Indiana and sighed. I looked down at my right arm and smiled. In Ohio about a year ago, I paid a guy under the table to give me a tattoo. My arm is littered with roses and thorny vines, I love it. My arm is a piece of beautiful art now. I'd say it goes pretty well with its metal doppelganger.

It's the beginning of winter, temperatures are dropping and people are getting into the holiday spirit. I sighed as I looked at the road ahead.

" I've got a long ways to walk. " I said to myself as I slipped my hands into my pockets. 

- Time Skip -

I made my way towards the truck stop and dropped my bag beside a bench as I collapsed onto it and held my gloved hands to my cold face. I pushed some of my long, curly, red hair out of my face and glanced around before standing back up and retrieving my pack from the ground.

I made my way into the truck stop and over to one of the many vending machines.

Pulling out my old, worn out wallet, I grabbed a few dollars and pocketed the small pouch as I went up to a vending machine filled with various kinds of chips and cookies.

I bought a bag of Doritos and two small packs of Oreos. I walked over to a neighboring vending machine and gazed at the various drinks, trying to decide what to buy.

" Nice patch. " a man's voice sounded from behind me. I turned to see who made the comment and I set eyes on an older man who wore a tearing baseball cap. I knew he was talking about the U.S. army patch on my backpack, considering it's the only patch I have. " Thanks. " I gave the old man a crooked smile. " Were you in the army? " the gray haired man inquired as he put his hands in his coat pockets. " No. My cousin is though. She gave it to me a few years back. " I smiled at the thought of my big cousin as I turned back to the vending machine, still trying to decide on what to drink.

I thought for a few more moments before inserting my last dollar.

I watched as a yellow Gatorade fell to the opening. Grabbing the cold drink, I turned to see the old man resting on a bench with his head back. 

" Do you drive a truck? " I asked curiously. The old man looked up to me and nodded with a smile as he adjusted his ball cap. " Do you know if there's any motels around here? " I asked awkwardly. " About a mile and a half from here there's one or two. Why? You a hitchhiker? " The old man asked sarcastically. " Yeah, I am. Have been for the past several years. " I laughed awkwardly. " Ya need a ride? " the old man sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. " Yes, that'd be great. " I jumped at the opportunity. " Okay, well let's go, I have things to deliver and I'm already behind schedule. " the old man pushed himself off the bench and I followed after him.

Leaving the warmth of the building, we walked to a big green semi truck with some rust on the hood of the engine.

I hopped into the passenger seat and buckled myself in as the old man jumped in too and started up the monster of a truck.