Beloved

Chapter One

*Reagan*

March 27th, 2017

Once I reach Sheridan, Wyoming, I book myself a motel room where I run a quick assessment of myself. I had tried to clean myself up to the best of my ability when I got to the bus station, scrubbing away any trace of blood.

A kind woman, who observed me furtively cleaning, lent me a jacket to help cover my bloodstained shirt and asked if I needed any further help. I gently denied but thanked her for the soft jacket.

Now, I am able to softly touch the deep gash along my cheek, whimpering at the pain. It looks disgusting, the same with my arm. They need to be thoroughly cleaned and stitched. I look around my small hotel room then down at my bare feet. I am a mess.

I know my first course of action is to head to the Walgreens I saw earlier. It is just down the street...perhaps a ten minute walk. I silently cringe as I look down at my torn up feet but urge myself. I have to do this.

Once I get what I need, I can rest.

I have cracked into my savings account, money I have been saving from every birthday and Christmas... From my small jobs of babysitting or dog walking. I have approximately fifteen thousand dollars.... The positives of having rich relatives: they give a lot of money as gifts because they're too busy or self absorbed to give actual, meaningful presents. At the time, it used to bother me. But now, I'm grateful for every check I received.

I hug my jacket tightly around me as I grasp my purse to my chest. Wyoming weather is fairly similar to Chicago's, therefore it is relatively warm. However, the shock has rendered me cold. I was on an adrenaline high and now that I am off of it, I am left fatigued.

I walk to the Walgreens drug store, trying to ignore the pain with every step. Once I enter the bright store, I rush to the shoe section and grab a relatively cheap pair of flip flops. I make a mental note to run to a shop to buy new outfits and shoes. But for now, I grab my essentials.

I grab socks, leggings, a tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush, hair products, deodorant, soap, underwear, food, two water bottles, a cheap phone, hydrogen peroxide, a first aid kit and needle and thread. As I am walking to the exit, I pass a section of hair dye and slow to look at all of the different choices. I glance at my blonde hair, my heart tightening at the thought of getting rid of the bright color.

But I reach forward and grab the deep auburn color, bringing it to front counter. The cashier looks at me with confusion as she rings up the products. I understand her hesitancy. This screams "I'm on the run", but I don't have another choice. I need all of this and I needed it yesterday.

"Sweetie, are you alright?" The cashier asks in a soft western accent. I lift my eyes to see she is probably in her early to mid fifties. Her hair is dark with random spots of gray. She has kind wrinkles around her green eyes, ones people get when they smile frequently. She tilts her head to the side.

"I will be." I whisper, handing her a fifty dollar bill as well as a twenty to cover the expenses.

"My name is Lorelei. I work here every morning except for Sundays and Mondays and I work Friday nights. If ever you need help, Sweetie, you come here." I am stunned in place, looking at her in awe. She doesn't even know me, yet she is offering help. There is no reason for me to trust her and I wouldn't... if it weren't for the wrinkles beside her eyes.

So, with a nod in her direction, I step back with the bags in my hand before I turn to walk back to my motel room.

Once I am in the room, I peel off the jacket and rush to the bathroom, pulling out the hydrogen peroxide and quickly rub it on my arm. I let out a cry in pain, doubling over as tears well in my eyes.