The Forgotten Girl

The forgotten girl was ripped from her thoughts by a familiar screeching sound. Mechanically, she turned her head and studied the semi pulling into the parking space next to her. The cab was a deceivingly non-threatening shade of grey. She saw tiny little pebbles of water drip down the side. There was the smallest fracture down the center of the left head light. The heat from the engine blew across her face. The cab was like a dragon. It stared her down trying to instill fear in her. The girl laughed silently at the ignorance. Didn’t it know that she had long gone numb to that emotion? Couldn’t it see that she was free?

The forgotten girl didn’t bother with trying to see the driver. It was meaningless because she already knew him. She had met him at this truck stop hundreds of times before. His name was John. The drivers were always named John.

            Suddenly exhausted, the forgotten girl leaned her head back against the cement wall of the truck stop bathroom. Her eyes were pulled to the darkening grey sky above her. She had a sudden vision of it suffocating her. Its hand wrapped around her throat. The ominous light pressed down on her from all sides. She felt like a wild animal being corralled into its cage.

For one stolen beat of time the forgotten girl hysterically hoped for one glimpse of the sun.  

She was so shocked by the thought that it took her a few breaths to wipe her mind clean. Confusion filled her as she examined the crack in her armor. It took her a minute to find. It was as minuscule as the crack in the headlight. It looked harmless. It seemed impossible that anything could get through that crack. But she was no longer a fool. She knew hope was a very dangerous thing.

She had no idea what to do. The girl had never had a crack in her armor before. Not since the beginning when life had ripped the veil from her eyes and she saw the dark and twisted reality humanity had created. The crack was unacceptable. It had the power to destroy everything. She had to fix the crack before it was too late. She had fought so hard to free herself from the bubble wrap that was wrapped around the world. Panic choked her. She fought desperately for control. She wouldn’t let herself fall back into the trap. She was safe because she knew who she was. She was safe because she knew her place in the world. She was the nameless. She was the faceless. She was the forgotten. 

The End

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