Chapter Text
Thursday 5th September 2024
20:21 pm
Am I really doing this?
The thought pounded through her head as she slowly made her way down the sidewalk. Every part of her body throbbed- especially her left elbow and shoulder, which bore the brunt of her weight as she leaned on her cane. She thought it would be easier if she walked and got a train, instead of taking her car. What a bright idea that was.
Windshear tugged on her leash, for the fifth time. Despair sinking in her heart, she tugged her back, and said “no, Windshear. Slow down.”
Please, she silently added.
Thankfully, she did, and Windshear was rewarded with a scratch on her head. “Good girl.”
It was more helpful than she could ever say that Windshear was properly trained. Otherwise she wasn’t sure she could’ve come with her at all.
And she didn’t want to restart her life without her best friend. Windshear was the only one left who didn’t care if she was disabled or not, nor that she was the indirect reason for both her parents’ deaths. All that mattered to Windshear was that her owner was her human, and gave her treats, and made the short, difficult journey to the park every day, where she could run around.
The wind whipped around the duo, slowly enticing another memory to the forefront of her mind: five or so years younger, Windshear - still a puppy - bounding alongside her.
Windshear was too big and fast for that now. She told herself that was why they still didn’t run together.
But for now, despite what her brother Dagur hoped for, it had been four months. Four months since the accident, and she still couldn’t do any of the skills she used to. Not even a cartwheel. Dagur’s strong suit was extreme sports, but even he could do a decent backflip. He’d recently been turning his attention to paramedic training, but she supposed everyone changes.
It would be utterly hypocritical of her, of all people, to try to claim otherwise.
Otherwise a name that wasn't her’s wouldn't be scrawled on her hand in block capitals.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t be entering a train station, with Windshear’s leash wrapped around her hand tight enough to cut off her blood supply, and everything she needed for a few days packed into one bag, heading for the only place left for her to go. One where she wasn’t a Deranger, or The Unhinged. One where the ashes of her career in gymnastics weren’t tingling in the air.
A place she could wipe her chalkboard clean, and just be:
HEATHER
It was smudged, barely visible in the dusk light, but it was perfect.
“My name is Heather,” she whispered to Windshear.
She paid for her ticket, and - a few minutes later - the train rattled into the station. Heather walked on, Windshear close by her side. She was glad there was almost no one else at this time of night, or she’d be knocked over in an instant.
“That a service animal?” A train guard asked.
“Yes,” Heather lied. Windshear was her solace she turned to when her brother no one else was there to listen. So she definitely bought her comfort. But she wasn’t a service animal. Maybe Heather could train her to fetch her painkillers for when her joints dislocated, and bottles of water when her dizzy spells hit. Why not? No one would be watching her like a hawk, hoping she would get better, and insisting it wouldn’t matter in a year.
It would.
Heather knew that this, her new reality, was forever.
The train guard raised his eyebrows at her, and she took it as a cue to show him her ticket.
This is it.
Now or never.
Los Angeles was not her home anymore.
“Phoenix Airport, Arizona.”
He grunted. “That’s pretty far away. You sure about that?”
Now or never. Now or never. Now or never.
Now, or go back to the life she’d always known.
“Yes.”