Motorcycle Blues

chapter one

edited version: please tell me if I have grammar mistakes, typos, or need fact checks. Thank you :^) (update: I've edited this a second time)

"'Run, run, lost boy,' they say to me,
'Away from all of reality.'"
—"Lost Boy" by Ruth B

September 13

The tree branches tugged on her sleeves, her shoes dirtying with the countless muddy patches she had run through, and her heart pounded in her chest so loudly that they seemed to be the only sound she could hear as she ran.

She couldn't cry, so she ran.

She couldn't talk, so she ran.

She couldn't stay, so she ran.

She spent her whole life running. She didn't trust herself to hide. She feared that she would be caught, cornered, and killed.

Whom was she running from, she had no idea and knew exactly who it was.

Or, what it was.

"Wake up," a clipped voice yelled, startling her and breaking through her nightmare, "Miss Gavin. Care to explain to me why you were sleeping during class?" She gulped, her voice trembling. Her eyes watered slightly from exhaustion, despite her recent nap.

"Well?" She heard a foot tapping.

Stupidly, she replied, "I-I don't know. I don't know, Mrs. Kirkham." A few other students snickered at her response. You idiot, Shelly, she thought angrily to herself. She knew that Mrs. Kirkham despised stuttering. Articulation was a must when speaking to her.

Shelly waited, her eyes darting everywhere-- anywhere-- but Mrs. Kirkham's face, for an agonizing minute. Mrs. Kirkham slowly lifted her hand and pointed a finger towards the door.

"You should be sent straight to the principal's office," Mrs. Kirkham said, each syllable painfully pronounced, like a sword slowly slicing Shelly in half, "but, fortunately for you," she dropped her hand, "I actually value my students' well-being," she snarled, her last word dripping with rage.

"Off to the infirmary with you," she smiled sardonically. Shelly imagined Mrs. Kirkham as a vulture with bifocals slowly deciphering Shelly's execution as the teacher scribbled on a sticky-note.

"But I shouldn't send you alone," Mrs. Kirkham sneered as she handed me the note for the nurse, " or else you might fall asleep in the middle of the hallway. Montgomery!"

Mrs. Kirkham yelled at a boy who was furiously taking notes, his head bent over his notebook. "Please escort Miss Gavin to the infirmary." The boy-- Montgomery-- nodded vigorously, as if the rapid movement of his face wouldn't give off the fear that danced in his expression.

"I will, Mrs. Kirkham, I'll keep her awake," he said, his glasses nearly sliding off his sweat-covered nose. Shelly wrinkled her nose.

She stood up and walked out the door without a second glance at the stifled laughter and snorts that surely would break out during lunch.

"You know, you shouldn't have gone to sleep during class. You were bound to get caught. You're lucky she didn't give you detention, she's much nicer than she seems, you know. Mrs. Kirkham is actually--"

Shelly whipped her head around to see who was the owner of that jabbering voice. She shot him a dirty look.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm your escort to the infirmary, ma'am."

Ma'am. Shelly scoffed, "You know you're annoying as the effing devil, right? And plus, I know that, dumbo. What's your name?"