Barely Treading

Chapter 2

I decided that no destination was the best destination. With a full tank of gas, and nothing holding me back, I want to make it as far away from here as I can. Trev always said this little car ran on nothing but hopes and dreams, which I am hoping is true now more than ever. It was around dinner time when I left our home, well my home. Seeing the small white ranch disappear behind me in the rear-view mirror was a surprisingly emotionless sight. Or perhaps I am just suppressing everything again. Suppression is another coping mechanism, and another root keeping me in my comfort zone.

Damn you, and damn that comfort zone.

The black trim around the windows and doors, and the shallow flower beds filled with lilies that lined the entire house have seen better days. We poured every penny we had into fixing the old place up, and it was nowhere near done, but it was ours, and it was perfect. We were perfect. The SOLD sign on the front lawn blew slightly in the breeze, and with one final glance through my mirrors, the house was out of sight, and hopefully out of mind.

Okay, you did the hard part, now what?

That thought plagued my mind as I merged onto the only highway that went to this end of town. Feeling the rev of the engine through my entire body I felt a vague sense of adrenaline course through my veins.

I'm doing it, I am really doing it.

I figured I would follow this highway until the road either stopped or I ran out of gas. Whether it was a good idea or not, going forward and going straight was the only choice I had. I felt my long, wavy, auburn hair tickle my shoulders as the AC blasted through my vents, and the local country station played through my speakers.

I don't even like country.

But out here, in this county, it was either country or nothing, and I needed something to listen to before the anxiety-filled thoughts intruded again. Using the black elastic that I always kept around my wrist as if it were my religion, I tied my hair back into the most pathetic bun I ever made. Normally I took much more pride in how I looked, but right now, driving and steering seemed more important than my hair.

Hair, really? You're thinking about your hair right now?

A small smile spread across my face as I slowly felt myself dissolve into that silly thought. It is always the little things I found myself getting caught up in. Like right now. I am currently in one of the most stressful and life-changing moments of my life, but all I can think about is how bad my hair looks. Trevor never let me entertain myself with thoughts as useless as my looks. He always said I looked beautiful, even when I know I didn't. He was always so good in moments like this. He always knew what to do, what to say. I needed him so badly right now, even if it was just his voice telling me everything would be okay. Losing myself in the consuming thoughts about Trev made the time go by faster and before I knew it the dark evening sky settled across the flat farmer's fields that framed the highway.

How much longer can I really go tonight?

Feeling like I needed to make at least some semblance of a plan, I started looking for signs that would point me towards a motel, or at least a diner. A cup of coffee and a map seemed like the next logical step and so far, it was the only direction I had. Many of the signs I drove past were useless to me and honestly meant nothing. I am not a trucker; a tourist and this drive certainly is not for leisure so many of the roadside stops I can see are less than appealing. I had a little less than half a tank left after several hours on the road.

I made it this far, what's a little longer, right?

Deciding I was in no rush regardless of how great a cup of coffee seemed right now, I decided to continue. Small trundles of hair started falling out of my bun and around my face, framing my cheeks and jaw as if they were a frame. Looking up into my rear-view mirror I took a quick look at myself. Small smudges of mascara lined my lower lashes. The pink tint to my cheeks was stronger than ever, and it always got worse when I was tired. But what really took my attention was the look in my eyes. It was almost as if a stranger was staring back at me. There was no light in the blue orbs that faced me in that mirror. When I was a child, my mother always said she knew if I was lying by looking into my eyes. Anytime I told a lie my eyes seemed to sparkle and gleam like fine crystals in the sunlight. But right now, they were bare. As bare as that empty house I just left. As bare as that nursery after the accident, but more relevantly they were as empty as I felt. Not wanting to consume me with those self-loathing thoughts any longer I swiped the underneath of my eyes with my not empty ring finger until all the mascara was gone and then I slammed my mirror upwards hiding the stranger that lived inside of it away. Looking straight ahead at the road ahead of me I kept my eyes forward and I found myself gripping the steering wheel with so much force my knuckles went white.

That's it you need a break.

Deciding to just pull over on the next exit ahead of me I prepared to switch lanes and figure out a plan once I was off the highway. The next sign ahead of me read Exit 74 Mountain Ridge Bed and Breakfast. Feeling as though that was as good of a stop as I was going to get, I rode the off-ramp with a little too much speed and quickly braked as I approached the upcoming light. Waiting for the intersection to turn green I looked around the small street everything appeared to be your typical small, mountainside town. Many of the houses were hidden in the dark blanket of the night that settled over the entire area, so I couldn't get a good look at what they truly looked like. But I knew without even looking at the homes exactly what they looked like.

Every single one of these places is as predictable as the next.

The light ahead of me turned green and I took the left hand turn down what appeared to be the main street of the town. Not paying attention to anything but the signs that directed me towards the entrance of the B&B, I rode along the street until a large, Victorian-style manor appeared in front of me. The sign out front was dark, and the paint was peeling so much that many of the letters were hardly visible from my car. There was no other building here large enough to serve as a Bed and Breakfast, and this is where the signs led me.

Might as well take my chance, what's the harm in going inside to ask anyways

I parked in the small parking lot around the back of the building finding comfort in the sound of the gravel under my tires. I pulled into one of the narrower spots in the lot even though there were only three other cars parked near me. But hey, when you have a small car, why not use the small spots. Putting the car into park, I stared ahead for a minute taking a deep and much need breath before I turned off the ignition. Reaching over onto the seat next to me I grabbed my small duffel bag of essentials that I always made sure was packed and I opened my door.

Damn it is really starting to get cold.

Still wearing nothing but my tank top and leggings I walked around to the back of my car and opened the small, rusty trunk. Grabbing the hoodie, I threw it onto the heap I call my life right now I set the duffle bag on the ground and pulled the soft fabric of the sweater over my head. This hoodie used to be Trevor's; it was his favourite one. After he left, I slept in it every night, enveloping myself in his scent wishing he would walk through that door and come home. He never did, and after weeks of not washing the sweater, I finally caved. The scent of him disappeared along with almost every other reminder of his existence within my life. But pulling the sweater on now, it was as if I was drowning in fabric, drowning in him. The bottom of the hoodie reached well past my mid-thigh, and the sleeves were rolled up three times just so I could see my hands.

Ah damn you Trev, why did you have to leave?

With one final breath, I picked up the duffel bag I set on the ground and made my way towards the front door.

This is it, you did it, night one.