The Dinner Party

Hit the Road

 ***Yes i know i said this was coming in November but i put it up early. i hope you enjoy this first chapter! just to get rid of any confusion.. the prologue is in the future, the book is everything leading up to "the incident". so enjoy and please comment :D thanks xoxo***

Have you ever thought of running away? I have, the thought absolutely fascinates me. Most people are all humble and 'appreciate what you have' but why can’t I change what I have? At the age of seventeen I don’t have much going for me so why not take a risk right? So I'm packing my bags and I'm headed off to wherever the road takes me; Or as far as my little green jeep will take me before running out of gas. My trunk already has two bags full of my clothes, makeup and shoes. Yesterday I took all of my money out of the bank and have put half of it in my purse and the other half split between my car, pocket and luggage. I grab my cell phone, purse and sunglasses then turn off the light and close the door.

I walk down my ugly hallway to the kitchen. My mom is sitting at the table with a half empty wine bottle in front of her. She looks tired and sick. Her hair is everywhere and needs to be washed. The room has an odor which could be an outcome from the mountain of dirty dishes in the sink.

I slip on my red converse and slide my sunglasses over my eyes. I don’t bother saying goodbye to my mom and lock the door. The fresh air is soothing and relieves the little stress I had about this trip. I hop in my jeep and start my engine. But before I can pull out of the driveway I hear someone call my name. Then my friend Zahara jumps out in front of my car.

“Where do you think you’re going Darci?” She asks.

“Does it matter?” I say with much attitude behind my voice.

I hate when people are nosey but it’s really hard to be mad at Zahara. She has been my best friend since preschool and always has my back. I’ve always been jealous of her; Zahara means most exquisite which is absolutely true. Her black hair and brown eyes are hard to say no to. And with the same birthday how could we not be friends?

“Yes! Are you trying to run away again?” She says in a scolding voice.

“Maybe…” I say slowly. “But you can’t tell. Got it? I will come back I promise, I just have to get out of the house for a while.”

“Last time I heard that excuse I didn’t see you all sophomore year of high school.”

“Yeah well this time it’s different Zahara.” I say irritated.

“You better text me once you get wherever you’re going this time.” She says demandingly.

“Yes mother…” I roll my eyes.

“Geez, if only everyone else could see this side of ‘oh so innocent Darci’” Zahara laughs.

“Well if I was like this with everyone then they would get suspicious! Plus you know that I truly am shy on the outside.” I explain.

“Yeah, only on the outside.” Zahara states.

“See you soon.” I say pulling out of the driveway.

I wave to Zahara and drive down the empty street.

~~~~~

                Seven hours in and I'm ready to turn around. This isn’t as much of a rush as I remember. But I I’ll keep going; at least until I get out of Indiana and hit the Ohio boarder. My gas meter blinks and I start to search for a gas station. Eventually I spot a ‘Gas Haven’. There is only one gas pump and I see a few mice running around. I pull up to the pump and see a sign that says ‘pay at cash register’. I peep in to the moldy building from my car. It’s empty except for the creepy teenager at the register who looks like he is part of some cult. I sigh as I step out of my car. The door jingles as I open it. The sound of annoying elevator music fills the room. The tile floor has missing pieces and is crawling with spiders. I wish I would have brought Zahara along, I hate talking to people. I walk up to the register praying that I don’t die.

“Twenty gallons on pump one, please.” I say.

He lifts his eyes from the magazine he was reading and he smiles at me. He grabs the magazine and shoves it in my face.

“What should I buy?” He asks.

 I look at the magazine, it’s a tombstone catalog. I swallow hard; this night is turning into the typical horror movie. I hate horror movies.

“Twenty gallons on pump one.” I say with anger.

“Do you have a problem?” He asks me.

“No, do you?” I smirk.

“Seventy one, eighty.” He sticks out his hand.

Someone needs to learn manners.

 I dig in my pocket and hang him the cash. Then I walk toward the door.

“Thanks for stopping by Darci.”

I spin around but the boy is gone. How did he know my name? I shiver and go to my car. I put the gas into my jeep and drive away. Well that was creepy. But there has to be a rational reason for this. Maybe I’ve meet him somewhere. I switch on the radio and my favorite Cher Lloyd song comes on. My stomach starts to grumble. I look at the car clock; nine pm. I spot a steak house up ahead and pull in the parking lot.

Thankfully when I walk in I see many people. The restaurant is playing country music and smells of meat and toast. The waitress escorts me to the nearest table and hands me a menu and a small glass of water. When she comes back I order a small steak. I look around. An old couple to my left are whispering to each other and every so often glance at me. To my right a young girl, about seven, sits alone digging into the table with her fork. I am about to get up and leave when the waitress brings me my order.

“Thanks” I smile.

I look at the steak. Flies swarm around it and it still is oozing blood. Why not just give me the cow? I stand up slowly. An icy hand clasps on my shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be here.”