A Brand New Ending

Chapter 62

Phoenix



When I get to my seat I slide up against the window, my hood now over my head again so I can recoil from the world, not wanting to watch the city pass by. So, instead, I shut my eyes, hoping that I can drown all my feelings from existence.

I don't know how many hours have passed since I boarded this bus, but when I hear the air leave the brakes I sit up, suddenly feeling disoriented and lost. I look out the window, the sun no longer high in the sky and I know that I am far from San Francisco. Far from Braeden.

Pulling myself slowly from my seat I filter out of the bus, in desperate need of fresh air. When I get outside I don't notice anything in my surroundings, a few people from the bus taking pictures of the surrounding scenery.

"OK, people, you have five minutes then back on the bus," our driver calls out to them.

Walking into the small café I find the bathroom quickly, making sure to go since I don't know when we will stop again. Immediately, I walk over to the sink and turn on faucet. Cupping my hands beneath the water I splash it upon my face, the cold water making me inhale sharply. Reaching over I grab a few paper towels and soak the excess water up off my face. Standing up I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I am not surprised by the girl looking back at me. Her hair is disheveled and knotted. Her eyes are red and bloodshot, a result of too much crying. Her body limp, almost lifeless looking. This was the broken girl I have always known.

Reaching up I run my fingertips across my chest, but no visible marks remain. Instead they are like an endless fire deep under my skin. I almost beg for there to be bruise or cuts, at least there would be some sort of healing. It's as though his lips still remain on me and I can't push the memory as much as I beg my mind to erase that night. Running over to toilet I empty the contents of my stomach but there is not much left. When I stop heaving, I pull myself up again, grabbing a towel to wipe over my face. Without looking back in the mirror I leave the bathroom, flicking off the light and head back outside.

We all start to filter back onto the bus and pull out of the parking lot, and in that moment I don't know if I am getting closer or farther away from my home. After a few more hours of sleep I am awoken by the sound of my gurgling stomach. Reaching over I find the paper bag from the older lady and dump its contents out onto the seat. Picking up the muffin in my hand I unwrap it slowly, inhaling the scent of the blueberries that are scattered across the top.

After a few bites my stomach seems to settle, my body thanking me for the nutrients. As I continue to eat I look out the window, the sun starting to finally set among the trees and I know the day is coming to an end.

The rest of the ride I am nervously awake, my body so exhausted but my eyes refusing to shut. I continue to stare out the window; small things along the roadside become familiar. We must be getting close. And then, all too soon, the bus comes to a halt and the engine shuts off. When people start to filter off I remain seated, my hands glued to the seat around me. What am I so afraid of? Before I know it I am the only person left in the bus, the driver staring at me from his rear view mirror.

"Are you heading back?" he asks, frustrated.

"No," I say softly.

Picking up what is left of my bagged lunch, I peel myself off the seat, each step making my knees seem weaker. I set my left foot down on the ground and a strange sense of calm washes over me.