Take it one step at a time, Harley.
So, since then, I've been deciding what I am going to do. My body needs to heal. That's the biggest thing. I need to find medicine to make sure I don't get sick. I also need to eat, so the first thing I will do is get some food when I get to school. Then it's planning a way to get the fuck out of this town.
I get up slowly, my body protesting against the movements. I grab the cash from the hole in the wall and stuff it into the bottom of my backpack, hiding it as best I can. I then fold my clothes up as small as I can get them so I can fit what I can in my backpack without making it look too big.
I don't want to pack up things too early in case they come down and look around. In the morning when someone comes to uncuff me, I’ll claim I need to pee before going. I will probably get hit for it, but it's worth it so when they leave, I can toss more of my clothes, shampoo, and the throw blanket into my backpack.
It's a risk because they might not leave me alone. Or they might drag me upstairs anyways. But I can't risk packing other things early and someone noticing. I have the cash, and that's the most important thing. The other things would help me save a little money, but I can manage without them. I'll wear extra layers so I have as much clothes on as possible without it being noticeable.
I take a deep breath and remember that I am doing this for me. No one is coming to save me. There is no getting out of this unless I do it myself and become the badass bitch I know I can be. I watched my mom do everything she could to give me a good childhood. She was a boss. She worked two jobs and did everything for me still. She was always around and there for me if I needed her. She was the happiest person I ever knew and so strong. I want to be like her, and this is how I start.
* * *
The next morning, I try to keep my shaking under control as I get ready for the day. I slowly shower and wash everything and put on the last two bandages I have on the worst cuts on my stomach. I can't do anything about my back even though it's still bleeding a little.
Mother comes down and unlocks me. I tell her I have to pee and then I'll be up. As I suspected, she slaps me and says, “You lazy bitch. Hurry the fuck up.”
As soon as I hear her hit the top step, I start shoving everything into my backpack and then run over and flush the toilet. I squish my backpack down as much as I can, making it seem more flat than it is. It takes me a while to work my way up the stairs, but when I do, Father is by the door to make sure I don't touch anything and leave.
“Be good today, Harley. I'd hate to have to have a repeat of last week,” he says with a gleam in his eye telling me he wouldn't hate it at all.
I nod and head out the door to go wait for the bus.
Holy shit. This is really happening. One step at a time. One foot in front of the other. I can do this. My body is protesting so much movement, but I fight through it. I make sure to flip the hood up on my hoodie and tug it up my neck as much as I can. They didn't give me anything to cover the bruising up this time, which is odd.
When I get to school, I take off right away for the library. On the way, I pass a vending machine and stop and grab a few snacks. I have to get something in me before I pass out.
I don't want to run into Lex. We usually spend mornings together before class, and I don't want to explain things to her. In the library, I log in to a computer and look up where I'm heading.
I've been doing a lot of thinking this last week. My mom and I lived in Auburn, Massachusetts, so my first thought was to head there, but then I remembered a story my mom told me when I was little after I had come home from kids club crying because another girl pulled my hair.
“Baby girl, I’m going to tell you a story. Once a long time ago, there was a young girl who didn't want to stay around the people who were being mean to her and pulling her hair. She had this beautiful soul growing inside of her, and she didn't want it harmed, so she packed her bags and went and found a princess.”
“What was the princess's name, Mama?” I ask, and she smiles.
“She was Princess Brielle of the Virginia Beach. The girl found a way to go to the princess and ask her for help. The princess held her and kept her safe and always promised to protect her and the beautiful soul she was growing. So, my sweet, sweet baby girl, you are also a princess. You are so strong, so incredible, and you don't need anyone to come save you from those mean girls at school because you are going to be strong and stand up to them and show them the kindness that they may need. Because you, my baby, are so much stronger than the girl in the story. You will be the princess who saves the day. So don't cry, my sweet girl, because everything will be okay.”
I take a chance,probably a stupid one.It wasn't the only time she told me stories about Princess Brielle, so I Googled Virginia Beach and see it's about halfway from here in Jacksonville, NC to Auburn. So I'm going to take a chance that Brielle is real and is my mom's friend. Let’s only hope she will be willing to help me too.
I bring up directions and print them up to be safe. I also print local bus routes. I find an online service for cabs and order one to meet me outside the school by the main road and not come into the parking lot.
When I'm done, I take off to make sure I get out there before the cab comes. My heart is pounding. I can't believe I am doing this. Holy shit. I take off down the hall at a brisk walk holding my ribs, trying not to let the pain slow me down.
But then I hear someone call my name. I can't look back; I can't risk it. I need to do this. I am doing this for me. I need to get the hell out of here, no matter how terrified I am.
I soon make it out and duck into the trees at the end of the parking lot by the road so no one can see me. I make my way out towards the main road and wait when I see the cab pulling up. My heart is pounding, my hands are sweating, and I'm shaking nonstop. I make sure it's for me, then get in and ask him to take me to the nearest bus stop that is heading north. My voice is a whisper and very raspy, but he is able to understand me.
We get there in no time and I get out to wait for the bus. I can't believe this is happening. Fucking hell, I am getting out of here! Whether I find Brielle or not, I am getting out from under Tammy and Richard. Ha! It feels fantastic to call them by their names. I want to scream it from the rooftops.
The bus soon arrives, and I get on and start to relax some now that I am actually doing this. My heart is pounding so hard it actually hurts, and my body is ready to shut down and sleep for days, but that doesn't stop a small smile from crossing my lips.
That's when I see him. He looks almost… familiar? He’s standing outside the bus where I’m sitting by the window. He has these eyes I swear I've stared into before, and his mouth curves in a way I recognize, but I don't know him.
Although, he is staring at me. Directly at me. Making eye contact.
I realize it and duck down, pulling my hoodie up more as the bus takes off. Shit! I need to get off this one and get a different one. I'll just wait until we are out of Jacksonville.
Doing just that, I hop off the bus and find a different bus stop to wait for that new one. It's going to be thirty minutes until it arrives, so I walk across the street to a gas station to get something to eat. I grab a few snacks and two bottles of water, staying as cheap as I can.