“You don’t know? Where’s your parents?” she continues to question.
“Not sure. Well, I mean, I never knew my father, but I know I had a mother. But things before being placed in care are just… fuzzy. It’s like my mind has blocked them out. Maybe it’s because I was only nine when I was placed in foster care that I can’t remember anything from before,” I mumble, still looking out the window.
“Yeah, maybe. So, are you going to go look for your mom?” Jayden prods.
“I’m not sure what would be worse: finding out my mother didn’t want me and left me for the wolves to devour, or that she’s dead. Either way, she’d be dead to me, so I would ultimately be chasing a ghost,” I mutter.
I take my gaze from the window and look at Jayden, her bronzed skin glistening from sweat and her gray eyes staring at me strongly.
“Why were you in care?” I ask. If she’s going to ask me, I’m going to ask her.
“My mom died from a heroin overdose, and my dad just wasn’t equipped to raise a little girl on his own. He got DFS called on him for leaving me unattended one night when he went out with his buddies. DFS, of course, gave him rules and guidelines after that, and they would show up for unexpected visits to inspect our house, which always failed. I was eventually taken from him and placed in care.” She takes a big breath, releasing with a heavy sigh. So much hurt and despair was let out with that breath it causes goose bumps to plaster my skin. That right there is why I don’t want to remember my past.
“Where is your dad now?” I interrogate further.
“In Hell for all I fucking care.” She shrugs, pursing her lips. I wince from her harsh words, curious why she feels such ill toward him. “He would come by and see me every other weekend at first, but eventually, he stopped showing up. When DFS tried to contact him, he was nowhere to be found.”
I nod and shimmy myself closer so I can wrap my arms around her in comfort. If Jayden’s anything like me, she doesn’t want pity for her life. Nor does she want anyone to give her a sympathetic look and say they understand what she’s going through, because nobody knows a damn thing about how it feels or what you’ve been through. I don’t know Jayden, but I know we’ve both been through more devastation than either of us deserved.
“Fuck them all,” I whisper. “We’re free now.” I laugh, giving her a squeeze. The words leaving my mouth give me an ultimate high of happiness.
“Fuck yeah, we are.” She giggles, laying her head on my shoulder as the driver starts the bus. Finally.
TWO
CHARLIE
Behind my eyes, I see it: the intricate etching of dark ink, each feather given such malicious detail my body instantly chills from fear. My heart picks up a pace so hostile I feel it may combust behind my ribcage any minute. My eyes clench, trying to wake myself up from the nightmare that’s in full-force, but it won’t work. It never does.
My eyes travel up the rigid back holding dark wings that haunt my dreams. I don’t know what they mean, but I know I fear them. A piece inside me knows they’re from the day I lost my mother. A day of dread, filled with terror, desperately wanting to escape… But I want none of it.
The dark wings suddenly pull from the skin, sweeping off the toned back and surrounding me like a million little blood-seeking bats. I shake my head, jerking from side to side to get away from the death they seek—mine—but I can’t escape the ravenous hold they have on me. Surrounding me one by one, until I see nothing but pure black.
“NO!” I scream. My eyes snap open and find the bus driver clutching his chest and falling into the seat next to us with a startled look across his face.
“What the fuck?” Jayden startles, nearly falling from her seat next to me.
“I’m-I’m sorry,” I stutter, out of breath, my heart beating hard against my chest.
“We’re here, ladies. Please gather your things and get off,” the driver instructs, shaking his head. Irritated, he makes his way back up the aisle.
“Dude, what the fuck was that about?” Jayden’s brows narrow with concern.
“Nightmares. I get them a lot,” I whisper, standing from my seat which is damp from sweat.
“Umm, Charlie? Did you leave your bag unzipped?” Jayden asks, looking across the aisle at the seats holding our luggage.
“No,” I answer hesitantly. I crawl over her, seeing my suitcase unzipped and my things spilled from it.
“No. No. No,” I whisper, shuffling through the clothes to find the envelope that contained my cash gone.
“What?” Jayden asks, looking from my bag to me.
“My money is gone,” I grit with disbelief. I look around the seat as if it had fallen out, but I know as well as anyone that someone stole it. How could I be so stupid to just leave it unattended?