Darkside

Two

"Hey." He's young. Why wasn't I expecting a young person to work here? Anyone can work in a motel for crying out loud. "You need a room?"

"Er, yeah sure."

I drag my eyes away. I can't let him really see me. I can shed Luvvie so much, but she might remain in my eyes. Colored contacts don't really do it for me. I tried but they hurt. I'm living a life without pain these days, that's the main reason I want to escape.

"Right, just you?"

"Yep." I pop the P. Me all on my own. But Phoenix doesn't need anyone else.

"Cool, well, room seventeen is free. It isn't the best one we have but I'm sure it'll do. How long you in town for?"

"One night." One night too many. Then my adventure begins. "Whatever is fine."

Keys slide along the counter along with a price. Luckily I have a few bills stashed in my pocket so I don't need to show him what I really have, what I've been squirreling away for months.

"You want me to show you the way or can you find the room on your own?"

"I'll do it."

My voice is gruff, but everything stiffens as I catch his gaze by mistake. He doesn't seem to know me, he isn't calling the cops, he's just smiling.

What the fuck?

I don't like it, he's creeping me out. A guy like him with sky-blue eyes and dimples when he smiles shouldn't be grinning at someone like me. I'm not worthy. I itch all over. The need to escape again intensifies.

"Bye then."

He calls something after me, but I don't pick up the words and I don't even want to know. Phoenix No-Surname-Yet doesn't have time for small talk. She's exhausted after her long day and the imprint the asshole truck driver left on her. She needs sleep.

"Room seventeen." I shake my keys. "Here you are."

If this grubby old hallway is anything to go by, I don't hold out much hope for what's behind that door. I hold my breath as I force the rusty lock open, wondering what hell awaits for me. I guess five-star hotel stays aren't for runaways, aren't for people rising from the ashes.

This will have to do.

The room is small. It smells funny and the dust might as well be clinging to my skin, but it's home. Home for tonight anyway, so I might as well get on with it. The scratchy sheets won't kill me. Not like...

Hands, holding tight. Air, hard to grab, leaving lungs, turning blue.

The end. The end is coming. The end for Luvvie.

Missing: presumed dead.

"Fuck." Sweat drips into my eyes, the sheets fly to the floor as I leap from the rock-hard mattress. "Fucking nightmares. Phoenix doesn't have nightmares. She can't."

I need to get out of here. This dingy shithole isn't helping. It's the air or something. The dust. Screwing with my head. Nothing to worry about, yet everything terrifies me.

Maybe the shower will sort me out. I can clean the dust and fog from my brain. Start again. If water can't clear his face from my head then I don't know what will.

***

"Where the hell am I going next?"

The view out the window doesn't appeal, it doesn't ignite any passion or freedom. I might as well be Luvvie again if I can't do something with my freedom. Droplets spill from my wet hair down my back, like a constant cold reminder that I don't belong here.

Wherever here is.

"Where the hell am I now? Why did I let him kick me out the truck? I should've refused to go."

Pack up, move on, find my city, that's my next move for sure. There will be a city I can blend in, I will find a place I can hide, I know it. I bet people do this all the time, walk away from their old lives leaving not a trace of themselves behind. Sure, their families may only be left with worries and questions, but there are times when they get what they deserve, or times when there's no other choice.

People do it and they do it successfully. I'll be one of those people. I need to be.

I just need to get my mojo back so I can move on.

I don't know why my energy levels are so low, what's stripped the air from my lungs, why my brain needs to shut down

"Just one moment."

I fall back on the dreadful bed and let my eyes fall closed, but not for long. No sleep is coming for me soon because I'm too worked up. Even blinking hurts because every damn time I close my eyes, even for a heartbeat, I see before. I see what I want to forget.

Him.

That night.

Missing: presumed dead.

The scar racing down my arm is reminder enough. I don't need anything else.

I run my fingers over the slash, willing that to vanish along with the memories. Anything that makes me identifiable is a risk. Phoenix already has a dangerous life on the run without Luvvie doing anything to ruin it.

It's hard to erase someone completely though.

Especially someone who's being talked about.