Chapter Text
Chapter One
First Steps
November 17th, 5:17 PM
They are coming for me. I have approximately two weeks left. Throwing my sweater over my head, it smells like cinnamon, but it’s faint. I grab my backpack and Rosie’s hand and head to the subway.
We get on the subway as soon as possible and find a spot in the corner to sit down. Placing my bag on my lap and wrapping an arm around Rosie, I lean my head against the window. The surface is cool to the touch and it feels therapeutic against my burning skin. I must’ve been tired because before I can stop myself my vision is overcome by darkness.
I open my eyes and blink a few times until my vision clears. Looking around, it has gotten a little less crowded. My face reflects through the window, my brown, dirty hair covers my forehead. But at least it isn’t hard to manage –it being short, I mean. My hair is just past my shoulders, kind of an awkward length. It might not really be short, but it was the shortest I've ever cut it before. I might try to grow it out a bit later if I end up making it. My skin is light, with a few freckles scattered across my face. My dark brown eyes continue to dart around, examining everything in front of me: two kids in the corner, seemingly pointing out the window, the grown man scribbling frantically into his notebook, and Rosie’s head on my shoulder, asleep.
Her hair is a darker brown compared to mine, messy and wavy and just ending at her lower back; overgrown bangs reaching a little past her lips, her skin a tan color. A key necklace hangs around her neck, a gift from me around a month ago. I got it for her because it reminded me of a necklace I used to have. I lost it though, a few years ago. If you uncap the key part of her necklace, there’s a small picture of me and her together –bad quality, but it’s sentimental. She has her own small knife in her bag, folds in so she doesn’t accidentally stab herself.
Of course I have my own knife, blades on both sides, and it’s helped me in a lot of situations. If you fold it inwards it won’t hurt you though, that way you can keep it in your pocket. There’s words engraved into both blades, not really sure what it says, but it’s cool. The handle in the middle is longer than each blade, a slit on each side for when it folds in on itself. I think the handle is made of metal but it’s colored black. I found it…well, not really found it, more like stole it from someone I knew while he was sleeping.
The subway slowing down forced me back into reality. I stand up, throw my bag over my shoulder. But before getting off the subway, I grab Rosie’s hand and she comes stumbling behind me while rubbing her eyes.
Trying to push past a bunch of people who don’t care about you at all is incredibly difficult when you’re holding a backpack, a child’s hand, and running for your life-but whatever. We were just about to get out of the crowded area when I felt Rosie tug on my sleeve, saying something so quiet that I was forced to read her lips: “I’m hungry.” And only when she mentions that am I reminded of the rumbling noise coming from my stomach.
I sigh and pick her up, swinging her arms around my neck with her legs wrapping around my waist.
“We’ll find some food,” I whisper while climbing up the stairs, feeling the fresh air on my face and taking a deep breath.
“Alright, I’m gonna set you down, hold my hand and walk with me.” I tell her.
“I don’t wanna.”
“I don’t care, grab my hand.” I order as her feet hit the floor and we start walking among the mob of people.
Turns out there are more protests today; people demanding that they be heard and that there are problems with this country that need to be solved. But I’ve got a bigger problem at the moment; so I just keep walking and walking until I find a place to eat.
We walk in, use the bathroom, get a sandwich and bag of chips, and sit down for a bit to eat and relax. We pick a small table in the corner and set our things down. I look up to hear her speaking: “Zaylinne…where are we gonna sleep?” She asks me, pausing between her words to take bites of her sandwich. I still have to teach her to chew with her mouth closed, but there are times for that later–hopefully.
I honestly don’t know where we are going to stay for the night. I might have enough money for a motel, but that’ll be pushing my luck, considering I have around 400 dollars left and a child to take care of.
“Probably another motel, Rosie.” I start telling her, but then I can see her looking at me as if she’s waiting for me to say something else.
“You still have your bracelet on, right? And your lovie?”
I try to change the subject and I see her nod while tugging on her jacket sleeves, something she gets from me. Rosie’s jacket is big on her, considering it was one from when I was around 12. It’s grey with a black flower on the front, her hood pulled over her head to hide the top half of her face. Her freckles still peak through, some scattered across her face. “Can I see them, please?” I urge her to show me and she glances down at her pocket, probably looking for her stuffed animal.
When she reaches for something in her pocket, she pulls out a small lovie–a yellow duck, her eyes admiring the stuffy. It has faded over the years, since it was originally mine. When I was maybe a decade older than her–fourteen or fifteen–my mother gave it to me.
She pulls up her sleeve to reveal her bracelet. Purple with occasional gold beads around her wrist, small beads though and a sturdy string so it doesn’t snap or break. It can be pulled to tighten it around her wrist and adjust it as she gets older. It’s pretty, really. It was the first real present I bought for her, around a year ago.
We haven’t really known each other for long, maybe two and a half years; but she’s like a daughter to me. “Are you still doing good?” I ask her, reaching my hand over to her chin, lifting it while letting the hood fall back off her head. Her eyes are dark brown with blue spots peaking through, a pretty color.
“Mhm” she giggles, putting her hands on my cheeks and squeezing them and it really is adorable.
“Good, that’s good” I say while smiling back at her.