There was a brief moment before I boarded the bus that I thought all my careful planning had come to nought. I was reaching into my bag to retrieve the ticket I’d checked a thousand times, when I was jostled from behind. A hand gripped my shoulder and for long seconds I didn’t dare breathe, let alone turn around to see which one of them had caught me. It wouldn’t be my parents; it was too early for them to discover me gone. So, which one of them was it?
“You dropped something Miss”.
Relief from me at hearing not a whisper quiet voice filled with threat, but the soft voice of an elderly lady. I turned now, head still half down to find a white-haired old dear holding out a battered purse with a smiling cat logo on the front. It was indeed mine; I’d been so concerned with the thought of losing my ticket, that I clearly hadn’t noticed when the purse fell out of my bag. I smiled genuine thanks as I held out my own hand to take it back before quickly boarding my bus to Salvation.
It’s funny how plans can change, alter direction without you realising. Things can get dark and dangerous really quickly when your eye is on the prize instead of the game. I guess that is what I was really guilty of, being too wrapped up in the moment, in us. That’s not what the police would be interested in though, nor was it what would tear my parents’ lives apart if they found out. When they found out, I remind myself. Exactly how long I have before they find the body I don’t know, that they will come looking for me I don’t doubt for one minute.
I guess now its just a question of who is going to find me first, but I’m not going to make it easy on them. I was running to a new life before, now I’m just running for my life.