Miles And Miles

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He made sure he was out of sight before he pulled the journal out from it's hiding spot.

The sound of pen scratching against paper drove his thoughts forward to the place they'd made their home. Her.

He wrote.

I don't know why I chose that name but I did. And when the word crossed my lips, it felt right.

As I'm watching Kirsten now, I'm beginning to realise why the name suits everything I am living for in this moment.

Because she's walking out of the run-down garage at the edge of a long road leading to the part of her life that she lost, with an address she could vaguely remember hearing over the phone one tearful night.

Her brown hair is kissing the wind as she clutches onto a bottle of blonde hair dye, that is probably cheap and could possibly turn her hair green. But she's got this smile on her face that says she's having the time of her life, despite just being told that her mum had been lying to her for years.

And this girl, she is with me. A boy she hardly knows but gives everything to. She is so innocent and gullible and it is dangerously magnetising. Kirsten wears her heart on her sleeve and doesn't even look down to check whether it's still there or not.

I am lying. I am deceiving her. I am stealing her life away with each road we drive down. She is harbouring a fugitive and I am planting a seed in false hope.

But when we go down, we'll go down together.

And I know that deep down the reason that name came to mind is because I would travel miles and miles for the girl that made me stop. I would do anything and everything, and I will not take my foot off the gas until she says stop.

It's ironic because she is the reason I stopped running and I am part of the reason she is.

- Trent/Miles/The Boy That Hates Books.

Trent panicked and shoved the journal into the glovebox at the last moment, heart in his mouth. Her eyes flickered over to him, and he wondered if she saw. No, the truck had blacked out windows, he was almost sure of it.

He could only hope that he was right...

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