My Little Girl

Chapter 31

For three days, I stayed upstairs, either in my room or Dean's, only going downstairs to eat small bites of food, never speaking a word. On the third day, I wait until Bobby goes to sleep before I fill a duffle bag with clothes, stuffing the box from my mother and the painting from Dean in it and place it on the bed. I grab a piece of paper and a pen out of the drawer of my desk and write down a note for Bobby. 

Bobby, 

Thank you for everything you've done for me since Dean's death. You have helped me more than I thought was possible. I'm sorry for leaving this way, but I can't stay here anymore. I need to grieve and heal and I can't do that here. I'm going to get a fresh start. It's out there somewhere. I don't know where but I'll know when I find it. I'll call you when I find it.

Thank you for everything, 

Skylar

I place the note on  my desk and grab my keys and bag from my bed. I walk over to the window and place my nag on the roof before climbing out. I go to the edge of the roof and toss my bag to the ground and put my keys between my teeth before I climb down the tree, dropping from the branch and landing on my feet with a soft thud. Flashbacks from just four days ago filled my brain as I dropped, looking at the spot my dad had stood as he spun around with me in his arms. I sigh sadly as I pick up my bag and take the keys from my mouth as I walk to the car that was still parked where I left it days before. I climb in the driver's seat, throwing my bag into the passenger seat. I put the key in the ignition and start the car, not at all worried about the revving of the engine waking Bobby up. I put the car in reverse and back out of the driveway.

The first place I stop is an I.D. shop that's open 24 hours. I go in and create a driver's license, telling the man at the desk it was for a school project, which he seemed to believe. I walk out and get back in the car, going to my next destination. Indiana. I drive straight through, only stopping for gas, making it to the field before sunrise. I pull over as close to the woods as I could get and grab my still bloody clothes from my bag as well as my lighter. I walk to the gravesite and grab some wood, building a fire. I throw the clothes on the wood and start to light the wood on fire, burning the clothes. As I wait for the fire to die, I sit by the marker I had made. 

"I'm sorry, dad." I say after the fire finally died. "I tried to stay. I couldn't. Sammy's gone and I couldn't stay in that house anymore. I'm going somewhere where I can start fresh. I don't know where I'm going but I'll know when I get there. I'm sorry I let you down. I won't forget you." I stand up, placing two fingers to my lips before putting them on the center of the cross. "I love you, daddy." I wipe away the few tears that fell from my eyes as I turn around and walk back to my car, driving away just as the sun rises. 

I think about where to go next as I drive around and figure why not go back to the place where it all started? So, I began the long drive to Texas. About halfway to Texas, my phone starts ringing. I look at the screen, seeing Bobby's name pop up. I put turn my phone off before rolling down my window, tossing the device out of it. I pull over to the side of the road, realizing I was exhausted and needed to take a nap if I wanted to reach Texas in one piece. I get as far away from the road as I can but I'm not too worried about people seeing me as I'm on a secluded back road and haven't seen another car for miles. I turn the engine of and lay down across the seat, laying my leather jacket over me like a blanket. 

I wake up two hours later from the same nightmare I've been having the past few days. I sit up and turn the car back on, resuming my drive and turning the radio to a classic rock station. Eight hours later, I was pulling into a small town in Texas. I stopped at the first place I saw, which just so happened to be a bar. I put my car in park and get out, slipping a gun in the waistband of my jeans, covering it with my shirt. I walk into the building and take a seat at the bar, looking around the room to see that there were only two other customers. The bartender walks over to me and looks me up and down.