Sandra Stone – POV
The bus is late. I should've known. Is anything going right in my life right now? I'm kind of relieved that no one sensed I'm missing. But who will be stupid enough to waste their precious time worrying about me? My parents are probably busy making plans on how to drag me to the altar so that at least they'll get rid of me. But I'm going away anyway. They'll soon get rid of me really. Win-win.
I feel so tired after this heart to brain talks with myself, maybe I can catch some sleep, on this hard metal bench, which looks darn uncomfortable, if you must know.
The bus comes, finally! As soon as I dozed off, the deep rumble of the engine woke me. I fight a yawn.
God, I'm tired, all this running and thinking made me so exhausted, I'm never doing it again.
Picking up my small bag and my favorite red purse, I get on the bus. I hug the purse tightly, mostly because it has all my important documents and my passport, and mostly because it was my real mom's. Guess I'm an emotional person after all, like a soft mushy cupcake. Let me tell you that I hate cupcakes. Do not know why, but just do. The taste is good, but they are so tiny. Why? I mean....and what am I talking about? I'm running away for God's sake, and all I think is cupcakes? Something is seriously wrong with me I swear.
I take my seat at the end of the bus and place my bag close to me. I don't have many things in the bag, just some clothes and some books and some food, but they are mine and I'm a possessive person.
The bus starts and my exhaustion vanishes. I'm really doing this huh? When the bus starts moving, I get my answer. I can see the town moving away, or is that me?
I close my eyes, not because I'm sleepy, but because I'm not strong enough to see my hometown passing outside me. I try to distract myself by trying to remember my mom, but I only see a very blurred vision of a lady. I sigh deeply. I want to know about her so badly. Who was she, what kind of a person she was, how she talked and laughed and smiled or scowled. Anything. Something. My parents never told me much about her or my real dad.
At least I've seen my mom's picture. She was pretty. I have her smile and her cute nose. I don't know anything about my father except that that I've his eyes. His beautiful green eyes. And his brown hair, which I love. And I love my eyes, they are my best feature.
What? I love myself. Sue me!
I feel so confused. I don't know what I'm gonna do in my life. Yes, I once thought to try to find my real dad, but it's not easy. I mean, he can be anywhere in the world or maybe, he's dead, anyway, there are more dead people in this world than those alive. And my dad is already dead for me. So it's not that important to find him. I've lived without him, I can surely live without him again.
Just sitting there, thinking about the future is giving me goosebumps. Damn, I want my jacket. I sigh. All I think before I doze off is am I afraid? Yes. Am I nervous? Yes, as hell, and I'm probably gonna throw up. Am I scared? Yes, shitless. Am I doing something wrong? No, definitely not. That's one thing I'm dead sure about.