I am

I can't sleep

The t.v. hummed quietly from across the room, somehow just loud enough to keep me awake. I tried to copy his breathing as he slept neatly by my side, maybe that would help me doze off. But instead I began hyper focusing on every hiccup of air he took in, each one seemed so different than the last. I grew weary and gave up.

We didn't have much time here. I didn't mind because the sheets are itchy and it reeks of cheap cleaning fluid. Our faces would be on the news soon, if not already I'm too afraid to check. And then where would we sleep. Motels aren't the best hiding place. There could be police on the way to our dingy room right now.

I squeezed my eyes shut and forced my body, as best I could, to self sooth.

Nuzzling into his warm back worked much better. For that small moment all I could think or feel was my body melting into his. My arms wrapped around him over and over until we were knotted and tangled together.Then I lay waiting for the sun spilled over the horizon, and creep up over this lonely town.

In those quiet morning hours we'll stir awake and rush to repack our sad little suitcase. Throw it in the truck and retreat to the next lonely town, seeking refuge we knew we'd never find.

Back in Lewisville his cousin was kind enough to lend us his old Nissan. It was gathering dust in his driveway, and he had a soft spot in his heart for our... situation. Although it wasn't in the greatest condition the car would surely get us to Canada. But crossing that border, well that would be another story.

As we puttered along I tried my hardest to focus on anything, to escape the anxiety building in my chest. The radio was staticky, we were to far from radio towers, and the shitty pop music came in waves. The only other station we could pick up right now was an old man screaming about Jesus over a tone deaf choir. I gave up and shut off the radio all together.

Now all I could hear was the squeal of the tires and birds singing sweetly in the trees surrounding us. This used to be my favorite part of the day, when I was young. The sky painted a soft periwinkle, the moon making way to the sun. I used to think the whole world was asleep. Just dreaming all there worries away, warm in their beds.

"I can't handle the silence" his small words seemed to echo through the car.

We hadn't talked much since we left Lewisville. Mostly about food or accommodations, he knew well enough to keep the conversations light. So his soft words felt as though they were shouted through an intercom.

"I'm sorry." I muttered back.

Only nine more hours I tried to plead with my inner thoughts. Which only made the hours seem longer. I leaned forward and pulled the switch to the radio. The static seemed louder then before, I could barely make out the Bible passages as the old man carried on.

I was running out of ways to keep my mind occupied and I could feel the weight of worry falling back onto my shoulders. I knew there was no way we'd be passing over the Canadian border with no issues. That itself was still two days of driving away,  and as each hour crawled  on I felt more and more uneasy. How long until someone would recognize one of us and report the plates. Who knows if the police haven't already spoken with his family back in Lewisville. I still shuttered at the idea of what may be splashed all over news headlines by now.

I checked every last finger nail to find anything I might have missed. But just as I expected they were all bitten to the bone, so I settled for chewing on the skin around my nails instead. My eyes scanned the road ahead and behind anxiously; even though I doubted police would be on these discreet backroads. Nine more hours of this until we settled in again for another sleepless night.

"Stop chewing on your fingers." He spoke as his glossy green eyes flicked over me for a fraction of a second, then back to the road ahead.

I wiped a bit of drool from the tip of my pointer finger onto my pants then lay my hand neatly in my lap. Now just static filled the car again.

"Do you want to talk ab-"

"No." I cut him off before he could finish. Talking made everything to real, I preferred our situation with a veil of ambiguity. At least that way I could pretend this was all one long drawn out nightmare. Those nightmares that felt so real you would will your body awake just to escape the grimace ordeal. I'd love more then anything to wake up right now. To open my eyes, my head heavy on a pillow, and smile hard realizing this was all a manifestation of chemicals in my brain.

"Were going to be okay" I guess he figured that's all I'd let him get away with saying.

Only thing was, I knew this was no sick nightmare and we'd left sleep behind at that smelly motel. Maybe to him, if he said it enough out loud it would somehow manifest into reality. Then poof, we'd be on a sunny beach somewhere, our toes buried into the warm sand watching the waves crash to shore. Or wherever he went in his mind to escape this.   I know he means well, and I do admire his persistence. But those words of reassurance lost there charm some thousands of miles ago. And now to me he was a broken record, with each repetition believing his own words less and less.

"I know" I lied.