Santa Carla Killers

Chapter 1

"ZOË, GET BACK HERE!" My asshole of a father yelled from the door of the hell others would call home. I stuck up my middle finger as I continued to walk down the street. The gash on my cheek bone was fresh and tender.

"Shit." I whimpered crossing my arms trying to keep the Seattle chill off my skin. I turned the corner to and began to run. I didn't know where I was going. All I knew was that I was getting out of here. I was praying I'd find my way to Mom.

She left with me when she left Dad, but Dad being the disgusting guy he is, he came after us and caught us in Sacramento, California.
Mom was just nineteen then, Dad was twenty six and I was two.

I made it to a gas station. I went up the the payphone and dialed the phone number Mom wrote on the bottom of the letter she sent me a month ago. "Hello?" A sleepy voice answered.

"Mom? Where are you?" I asked with tears brimming my eyes. I heard her breathing.

"Zoë?" I heard Mom's voice cracking. I exhaled with relief.

"Where are you staying? I'm leaving Seattle." I said looking around my environment.

"Zoë what's going o-"

"I don't have that much time. Where are you?" I whispered with anger.

"I'm staying at a Motel 6 in Santa Carla,  California. Room no.8"

I hung up the phone and ran into the bus station. "Where can I buy a bus ticket?" I asked the clerk who was nearly asleep.

"There's a bus station about two blocks from here." He pointed west.

"Thank you." I followed his directions until I found a greyhound bus station.

I bought a bus ticket for the next trip to San Francisco, that was at 3 a.m. I threw my duffle bag down on the floor, and took off my jacket to cover my eyes from the harsh florescent lighting.

****
"Hey," I felt someone kick me. "No loitering." A deep voice groaned. He was holding a broom, a janitor.

I sat up and scowled. "I'm not loitering." I muttered as I stood up. I looked at the clock and saw it was 2:30. The bus was outside, already boarding people.

I handed the bus driver my ticket and found an empty window seat. Just as I sat down, ready to fall asleep again, two tanned, tall, model looking girls climbed on. Their hair was permed, but pulled back for the trip. "Ugh, Cynthia. I don't want to hear your voice the entire trip. It's way too early for this." The skinnier one bitched. The other girl ignored her request and just continued walking down the aisle. "Are these seat taken?" The bitchy one asked me.

"Not that I know of." I yawned. I pulled my jacket back on as I situated myself.

"Got in a fight with your boyfriend and you left him, huh?" The quiet girl asked, as she motioned to her cheekbone, indicating the gash on my cheek.

I was taken aback, and part of me wanted to say something bitchy back. No wonder this bitchy friend wants her to shut up. "Fight with my dad, actually." I explained.

"I'm Kelly, this is Cynthia." Bitchy introduced.

"Zoë." I closed my eyes, just wanting to fall asleep.

****

"Hey, Zoë, we're almost to San Fran." A hand was shaking my knees to wake me up. I stirred awake, and looked out the window. I saw the beautiful ocean, with the sun shining off it. "So why did you come to San Fran?" Kelly asked.

I didn't even talk to these girls for more than five minuets, and they're already getting into my business. "Uh..." I trailed off. "Meeting up with my Mom, in Santa Carla."

"Santa Carla?" Cynthia gasped. "That's the Murder Capital of the World, you realize?"

Kelly slapped Cynthia's arm. "Don't be so morbid." She hissed.

I rolled my eyes and continued to watch the ocean go by as these two bimbos fought with each other. "Oh please god, let this ride be over." I mentally groaned.