Lydia

Another day was dawning in the small town of Creek, Virginia. The fog slowly burned off the cow pastures and revealing the dew-soaked grass. The newspaper courier had just finished up his route and the mailman had just begun his. The roosters were crowing and the raccoons were back in their dens. The summer sun began beating down on the blacktop and the temperature began to rise.

Lydia blinked the sleep out of her eyes, hating all these things.

I can't wait to get out of here.

Lydia had big plans for her future and not one of them included staying in this small town past the age of 18. It wasn't like there was anything left for her anyway. Her mother had died when she was 10. Her father was the town drunk and couldn't even hold a job for more than a few months at a time. She had no boyfriend.

Boyfriend? Hell, I don't even have regular friends.

The only things she did have was her love for movies, books, and music. All things horror is what kept her from just giving up on her life completely. She always had a cheap King paperback in her messenger bag. She could regularly be found near the Jackson Street Bridge reading one of them.

So it wasn't any surprise that is how she planned on spending this summer day. She rolled out of bed and took a quick look in the mirror. The black eyeliner was still mostly intact and her jet black hair was ruffled up from sleep.

Perfect.

She threw on a black t-shirt that was well past its prime and a pair of black jeans that were in even rougher shape. She sniffed her socks and decided they weren't too ripe yet and threw on her combat boots.

She eased down the steps to the foyer, if it could be called that, and peaked into the living room. Her father was there like always, passed out surrounded by empty beer cans. The TV was playing reruns of the same corny show about two brothers causing trouble.

What are ya goofy, Beaver?

She smiled despite the sad scene of her father lying there with his mouth hanging open. She opened the door and stepped out into the harsh summer light and gently closed it behind her.

It wasn't a long walk to the bridge but long enough for the neighbors and people running errands in town to give her cross looks. The old lady next door was watering her flowers and looked down her nose at Lydia's boots.

Probably the same ones your husband wore in the Great War, granny.

She turned left onto Jackson Street after leaving her neighborhood. This is where the business district of town officially began. On her right was the Quik-e Mart. A couple of potheads were standing in front drinking fountain sodas already. They noticed her and started yelling for her to come over, whistling, and all sorts of other obnoxious crap.

She flipped them the bird and kept on walking.

She was in the heart of town now and people had already begun their weekend. Women with huge handbags and even bigger sunglasses were coming and going from the fashion boutiques.

More like the cheap crap your church friend sells just to say she has a boutique.

It was at this point she was usually annoyed enough by the sounds of other people that she put in her earbuds. Today was no different. The soothing sounds of 80's goth flowed into her ears.

Much better.

Lydia began walking faster now and looking down at the pavement as she went. She was so used to walking like this that she basically knew where she was even without looking. She knew she was coming up on the bridge so she took her earbuds back out, put them in her bag, and looked up.

Someone was in her usual spot.

Someone young.

Someone wearing a black t-shirt and jeans.

The boy looked up from his book and his eyes met hers. Lydia pushed her hair back away from her eye and behind her ear.

"Hi, are you just gonna stare at me?" the boy said, still looking directly in her eyes.

Lydia thought that maybe she would be happy doing just that forever.