The Island Princess

Chapter 7. The runaway

{Location: A bar few miles outside of Silverthorn}(Skylor's POV)[Time: When Skylor was 18 years old]

I pull open a torn bamboo door. My hood is covering my head from the rain. Next to no one is here other than a bartender and a tucker. Inside is a few pool tables and missing pool balls that decorate the broken glass and busted wood. But I'm away, on my own.

Finally.

I can disappear just like my Mom did so many years ago.

I make my way to the counter, brush off the glass from the bar stool as the bartender cleans a cup while wondering in my direction.

"Can I help you, Miss?" He sets the cup down as I sit, thinking about taking my hood off. The bartender isn't the cleanest looking person, dirt is under his fingernails, his teeth are a little yellow and he smells like leftover cabbage, "You lost?"

"No," I get a buzz in my chest, my first word on the lam, running away from my father's creeping eyes, "I'm right where I need to be." I scan the menu. I've never had alcohol before. What should be my first taste?

The trucker, decked out in head to toe leather and a brown cowboy hat, slides over to me, "You seem a little young to be in a place like this."

"What you mean a complete mess from a bar fight?" I'm careful but I really want to enjoy myself.

"No," the trucker takes his hat off, "I mean your age. With a youngin's face as pretty as yours, I don't think you should be in here."

I roll my eyes, wanting to be done with this conversation, "Can I have a shot of your special?"

The bartender nods, "I'll need to see some id ma'ma."

"Sure," I dig my wallet out of my backpack, pull out my fake id. Thank goodness for art class am I right? "I believe that earns me a shot of your finest."

He gives it back then head to the back for my request.

The trucker pulls up a chair as he taps his drink, "My mistake missy. Are you going somewhere?"

"Not really." I pull my hood off, showing my bright red locks wet from the rain outside, "Just wanting to explore what else Ninjago has to offer."

He carefully walks his fingers closer to me, "Sounds like you need a ride. I'm heading to a small village up in the mountains. I could take you there....for a little fee." His hands now slide along my thigh, slowly traveling up, "What'd ya-"

The second he touches my skin, I explode into action. I stand up, knocking over my chair, grab his thumb and the opposite side of his palm where the pink is just above. Hold it tight against my chest and twist counterclockwise.

The trucker collapses onto the ground as I only increase the pressure, "OW! OW!"

"Shut up," I kneel on his chest, switch my grip to the point where I can pick him up just by his wrist. And oh boy, his wrist can't handle all his weight. "I came in for some peace, and I'm not gonna let it be ruined," I let him go, crawl away from me, "Now run before I really get annoyed."

He nods holds his hand and bolts for his truck.

The bartender comes back, none the wiser as I'm back in my seat, "Where'd Fred go? He didn't pay."

He holds my shot on the tray, just out of my reach, "I saw him bounce. Something about reaching a breaking point." I should have brought chapstick in my travel bag. Or mabey a picture of me, Sam and my boyfriend. Just to have something to hold on to.

No, I brought only the bare essentials. Money, clothes, fake ids, and maps. Nothing more, nothing less.

I lick my lips, I'm parched from walking to the bus stop, "Can I have my drink now?"