Izzy's POV.
The plane ride is long and I made sure to pay in cash so that no body could find out who paid for what flight. I know that by now, Derek, and my dad have gotten home and are searching for me so I made sure to look over the city I'm going to and know exactly where to go to get hair die.
"Would you like anything to drink?" The airplane attendant asked.
"No. Thanks." I say softly and break eye contact quickly. I count the money I have left over and I'm thankful my ticket wasn't too bad.
Soon enough the flight ends and I leave quickly, with my hood over my head and my head down. I catch a taxi and try to keep my face as hidden as possible. I hold on to the picture of my mom for my life and I can feel the driver constantly glancing at me through his mirror. I ignore it and look out the window. I left my phone in a trash can back home so if they tracked it, I could lead them in the opposite direction.
The drive to Compton and kinda long and I feel tired, eager to find a motel and sleep for a couple of hours. As soon as we pull up to a dead, vacant motel place I pay the driver and hurry out and to the front to get a room. When I walk in, the lady looks at me funny but I brush it off.
"I need a room please." I ask nicely and take my hood off.
"What is a girl like you, doing in a place like this?" She laughs.
"Just passing through." I answer. She shakes her head.
"No, I know what you're doing. You're running away." She says politely this time. Her eyes are light and sympathetic.
"What? How did you know that?" I ask.
"You're bag isn't big enough to be passing through. That and I've done the same thing." She says and peers into my eyes even more intensely.
"Oh." Is all I can say.
"You look like you've been through kind of a lot." She looks at what I'm wearing. I just nod. "Have enough money to get by?" She asks.
"Yeah." I answer.
"I barely had enough." She laughs and looks like he's thinking back. "When I was 14, my mom passed away and I was an only child so I only had my really close friends to talk to. And even they didn't understand, neither did my father. He started to become an alcoholic, and the first time he hit me, I grabbed all my things and took off. I never saw him again. I don't really care to." She explains. A tear slips down my face. I don't know how I would handle not seeing my brother or my dad anymore.
"My mom passed a year ago." I say lowly and dip my head down a little. I look any where but her. The pain in my chest multiplies with every second that passes by, talking to an unknown person about why we ran away.
"So tell me, what's a girl with so much money doing in a place that costs the least?" She asks.
"This is my moms least favorite place in the world. No one would think that I would come here, so no one can find me." I explain.
"Child, you're a smart cookie now aren't you?" She laughs.
"I have my moments." I give a small smile.
"Did your dad abuse you or something?" She asks.
"No. Neither did my brother. There was this boy. And he made me so happy. You know how after your mom died you felt alone and dead and all you ever felt was pain and suffer?" I ask and she nods. "Well he made all that go away. He didn't make the nightmares go away, but the pain and sorrow of losing my mom was just gone, at least while we were together, which we hung out a lot. But I started to develop feelings for him, and sometimes he'd show feelings for me too, and others he didn't. He would always protect me and be the first person to answer when I needed something. But I got tired of waiting, so I told him I wanted to go out with a boy who asked me on a date, just to see his reaction, I wasn't actually going to. That's when he decided to tell me he's moving back to England. That's when I decided that there's really no hope for me to ever feel happy again." I finish and there's tears running down my face.
