Wild Blood

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Chapter Three - Hurt

“Lore!” a voice yelled. It was her voice. I knew it was still a dream because I didn’t stir or open my eyes. I didn’t recognize the name she called, but I just wanted to hear her.

“Hello?” I called back. My voice hung in the air waiting for a reply.

My heart sank as no reply came. My voice bounced from mountain to mountain saying hello. It echoed through the forest.

“Please!” I begged.

I cried like a baby. All I wanted was to hear her voice. Her beautiful voice. The sound of nothing was like a dagger to the heart. My god what I would do to hear her once more.

“Lore?” She appeared before me, I only seen her eyes. Her grey mysterious eyes.

“Help me, please, help me.” I sobbed. I reached to her and our hands touched. It was like an electric shock to my system. My eyes widened and so did hers. I could see every grey fleck in those eyes, there was soft blue hues in those iris’ of hers.

“Anything for you.” She breathed. “I’m coming for you, I promise.”

And then my eyes darted open, nothing in front of me except for the vast forest. Would I ever be able to meet those grey eyes in person? Why was she so familiar? Why did those eyes haunt my dreams, haunt me ever since I first seen them?

I looked around untying myself from the tree. I checked my watch 5:08 a.m. Two hours of sleep, better get back on the trail.

I gradually climbed down the tree and landed with a thud. I knelt down and got my compass back out, and I grabbed the loaded gun and swiftly put it in my sweater pocket and continued walking.
I picked up the pace and quickly found the road. I checked the map, this road leads to the next town, another hour or so of walking. It was a bigger town, probably had a motel I could stay at.
I was lucky enough to not see any vehicles driving this early in the morning. Everything was dead. I pulled out a protein bar and began to eat it. I put on a pair of sun glasses and continued walking.

I reached the outskirts of the town, and it looked busier here. I sighed and push my backpack up further. Please, tell me a motel was close, I pleaded in my head.
I walked for another 30 minutes, closer to the heart of the town. And there in all its glory, a beautiful motel. I sighed with relief. I went to the front desk, 8:30 a.m. sharp.

The male at the front desk smiled at me. I smiled back, my anxiety tightening in my chest. Interaction wasn’t my strong suit.

“Hi, would I be able to get a room?” I said lightly.

He nodded, “For sure, just a double bed?”

I nodded.

“Okay, it’s $50 a night.” He said with a smile. “And your name?”

I panicked but it didn’t show in my eyes, “It’s Monica Daly.”

He put it into the computer. “Perfect, now we take credit card and debit.”

I pursed my lips sadly, “I- I only have cash…”

He frowned, “Well it’s fifty a night, and for any damages it’s at least another fifty.”

I went into my backpack and fumbled to get the cash. I put two fifty dollar bills on the desk. “I’ll give you a hundred now, I won’t be damaging it, but I just need – need a room.” I stuttered.

His eyes softened. “No problem, miss.” He passed me the key, “this is your room” He handed me a paper with the room number on it.

I nodded, “thank you.”

I grabbed the key and walked out. My chest wasn’t as heavy now. Now, I need to rest and plan my getaway. I needed to go far. I got into my room and locked the door, I latched all the locks I could find. I checked if there was an alternate route if an emergency. Window in the far right of the room, perfect. I sat on the bed and opened my map of Iowa. There were 10 possible towns that my parents, well not my parents, could think I would have gone. I was in one of the five closest towns, which means this motel stay would be short, unfortunately. I couldn’t be any longer than two days, I don’t even know if I had that.

I went and had a shower, getting all the little twigs out of my hair. I took any of the extra shampoo bottles they had and soap. I would need this.

I pulled the big towel around me and sat back on the bed. I counted the cash in the emergency fund envelope. My god, twenty thousand dollars. I could go anywhere in the world with this money. Far, far away from those psycho’s. But it didn’t help with the fact that there was more people just like them looking for me. Who knows how many people knew about me being shipped off in a month. I could be being chased by hundreds of people for all I knew.

I washed my clothes that I had been wearing and hung them over the shower. I threw one of my other shirts I brought. How long do I stay? I could only conclude to one day, maximum. Who knew who was lurking around…?

I towel dried my hair the best I could and I used the motel phone to call for pizza. It came within 30 minutes and my stomach was full and content. I had to put my coloured contacts in before he came. I didn’t trust anyone to see my eyes.

I sat on the bed with my legs criss-crossed just thinking how my life got more fucked up than it was already.
And those eyes I dreamt about was the only thing keeping me sane. I prayed they were real, that they belonged to someone on this earth. God, I needed some hope.

I slept until noon and then my eyes were wide awake. I was just thinking of the steps in this plan. What was I going to do next?

I was going to need a car, whether that was buying a used car or stealing one. I could do either, whatever I needed in the spur of the moment. I shivered thinking of how well they trained me, I guess they never thought I would turn on them. They had me so convinced they were my parents, it was only the past year that I truly began to hate them. It was so plain to see now, how was I so stupid? So naïve?

Deep down, I was kind-hearted. I truly was. It was just buried beneath the numbness, anger, sadness, and more anger. They made me into something I never wanted to be. Even at a young age I knew what they did was wrong. For some reason I never believed in their ways.

I was immune to the violence now. They showed me cruelty and that was a part of me today.

I remember when I was seventeen, I was caught talking to this strange man that appeared at our door. I forgot to wear my contacts that day, and all he was doing was giving out flyers for this church supper. He commented on how beautiful my eyes were. I recall how my stomach turned when I realized my mistake. I grabbed the flyer and did my best to get rid of him. My mother grabbed my shoulder smiling at me.
“How would you like to come in? I just made some cookies. You can take some for your way.” She had smiled sweetly.

My eyes filled with tears then.

“Oh, how lovely.” He replied genuinely happy for this act of kindness.

“Come ahead in…” She pointed to the kitchen. He walked ahead of us, and she gave me the most menacing look. “Get the tarp.” She grabbed my shoulder
again and gave me a shove.

I went downstairs and grabbed one of the many tarps we kept. My mother had her gun right on her person. Upstairs I could hear the laughing, bile threatened to pass my mouth. I was so disgusted with myself for letting this happen. He was such a happy man. I set the tarp up in the hallway just before the kitchen. He never seen me but my mothers’ eyes glanced over to me. Her nod was meant for me to go over there.

I walked over to beside the man, “And your daughter, what beautiful eyes. I have never seen such nice eyes like that.” I barely smiled.

“Oh yes, they are quite lovely.” My mother said smiling. But only I knew that smile. That wicked smile.

“Well, I best keep going, these flyers’ won’t get handed out themselves.” He stopped at the tarp, cocking his head with confusion. No, that tarp wasn’t there 5 minutes ago, I had thought.

He turned to look at my mother for answers’. Her gun was already raised, a silencer at the end of it, of course. His eyes grew wide with fear, and then the begging commenced. Oh how I hated when they begged.

My mother pushed the gun against me, “I am sick of killing people for your mistakes, so why don’t you kill him for your fuck up.”

I shook my head, “I – I – I can’t” I stammered.

She shoved the gun into my hand, “Do it now, or else I will torture him.” She threatened.

“I’m so-so-sorry, I truly am.” I grabbed the gun and shot him between the eyes. He fell flat onto the tarp. Blood did splatter on the wall. But my mother was already getting the bleach.

“These mistakes of yours, Nix. They are coming to an end. Every person from here on out will be killed by you. Understand?” She scolded, her eyes more frightening than before.

I just looked at her, and then she tightly grabbed my arm, “Do. You. Understand?”

I nodded quickly, “Yes, I understand.”

“Good, now call your father and tell him there is another dump run.” She hissed.

I ended up killing two people from the age of seventeen to nineteen. My mistakes killed them. I killed them. I would never forgive myself, and every person would haunt me until the day I would die.

My flashback ended and I was still in the same spot looking at my hands. I didn’t want to be a monster, I really didn’t. I know how much I despised the people that raised me, and that confirmed one thing in my head. I was unlovable. I was so beaten and torn down.

I stood and looked at myself naked in the mirror. My cheekbone had a faint bruise, my cut lip healed well overnight (another one of my freak abilities), the bruises on my abdomen had turned an ugly yellow at its final stages of healing. I looked past all that and just looked at me.

Had my violet eyes always seemed so sad? My body was toned and sculpted from the hours of endless training, all I seen was the pain and suffering when I looked at myself. I tucked a strand of my brown hair that fell on my face. God, why was my hair so long? It flowed midway down my back. I got the knife from my backpack and began hacking.

Long chunks of hair floated to the ground. I looked at myself in the mirror now. I cracked a smile. Now my hair just fell short of touching my shoulder. Better. This was better.

I picked up the hair throwing it in the garbage. I need hair dye. I needed to look different. I got dressed and made sure to bring my backpack with me. I wasn’t leaving anything behind just in case.

I walked to the closest convenience store and scanned the shelves. Here is was. Yikes, not the nicest selection. Blue, blonde, purple, and black. Fuck, not great picks at all. I grabbed the black and headed up to the register. The lady behind the counter didn’t say a word, just keyed in the amount and gave me my total. I was glad for her rather unfriendly demeanor. I didn’t have the time or energy to pretend to be happy.

I hurried back to the motel, and then checked over the room like a madman. Okay, no one hiding in here. I was safe, for now.

I got the hair dye and brought the gun to the bathroom. I began the process, of changing my light brown hair into the blackest of blacks. I sat on the bathroom floor waiting for the dye to soak in. I continuingly checked my watch as time sluggishly moved along. This was almost worse than watching paint dry. Like come on…

Almost as painful as waiting for my hair to dye, was trying to wash out all the black. Cheap, stupid hair dye. Soon enough everything was done, and I even blow-dried my hair with the small and horrible blow dryer that came screwed onto the wall.

I looked different as I gazed at myself, but I liked it. The cut was a little messed up, but not too bad, and the colour wasn’t actually that bad. It made my purple eyes stand out even more. I looked at the towels on the ground with a giggle. I’m afraid those towels used to be white once. Black stains were tie-dyed over the whole thing. Oops.

For once, I could feel the heavy burden I carried drop a pound. Progress, I thought triumphantly.
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