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Why would I leave South Africa? This is my home.
He lifts the mattress right under my butt, and the movement jars my body, sending a wave of pain through my back. I watch as he shoves a thick envelope under the mattress before dropping it down again.
“Keep that envelope safe. It has a new passport and some money in it for you. I’ve arranged a visa for you to go to America, but it’s only valid for three months. I could only get you a temporary one on such short notice. You can’t stay here. Once you’re in America, stick to the small towns and never use your name again. Forget where you come from, or they will find you.”
They? Who are they? Why would people be coming for me? I don’t understand any of this.
I want to scream as a helpless feeling overwhelms me.
Uncle Tom gently caresses my cheek, a sad look giving his face a haggard appearance. “Leave South Africa, Cara. As soon as you can.” He leans over me and places a chaste kiss to my forehead. “Run, Cara. Run far away and never stop!”
I watch him leave and then I’m left alone in the hospital room with only the envelope and a heart filled with sharp pieces of emptiness that are stabbing at my insides with every panicked breath I try to suck in.
For a moment I can only blink and breathe before the reality starts to squeeze at my insides again.
My parents are dead!
I’m alone?
I start to weep, grief-stricken and distressed by all that’s happened to me.
I’m only eighteen. I don’t know what to do. I want my Dad and Mom.
A nurse comes into the room and smiles warmly at me, but I feel none of the warmth. She gives me something and it starts to soothe the pain that’s clawing at my heart.
I know the relief is only temporary, but I welcome the blissful sleep with open arms.
CHAPTER ONE
Cara
“Time to close up,” Mr. Johnson says with that eerily quiet tone of his. In the beginning it used to freak me out, but you get used to stuff like that if you need money. I’ve done so many different types of jobs in my life, but selling stuffed animals must be my least favorite and weirdest.
Mr. Johnson offered to teach me ‘the tricks of the trade’ (his words, not mine.) There is no way I want to learn how to be a taxidermist. I just need another hundred bucks and I’m out of here. I’ve already stayed here for too long.
I live a lonely life, but I’ve grown used to it. It’s just the way it is. It doesn’t help to question something you can’t change. It’s better to just accept that it’s the way my life is going to be.
I now go by the name of Cassy Smith, my mother’s name. Cassy is short for Cassandra and Smith was her maiden name. That was a nice thing of Uncle Tom to do. I feel closer to her that way.
I still don’t understand any of the things that happened to me when I was eighteen. No, I’m lying. I understand the pain, because it’s the only thing that was real and constant.
I don’t understand what happened on the boat, or to my parents. I don’t understand why I had to leave, and why Uncle Tom left me.
I’ve come to the conclusion that life is not meant to be understood – trying will only drive you insane. Life is just meant to be lived, every day a new day with its own problems.
I’ve been in the US for seven years. Lucky number seven … right? I can’t use my passport anymore. It was only valid for three months, but that was all I needed to find my first job, which was cleaning toilets at a truck stop. It was a shitty job but that’s why they let me work there in the first place. Cheap labor.
I keep moving, just like Uncle Tom said. I don’t stay longer than two months in one spot. I’ve been here six weeks already and I’m feeling the familiar itch to run.
I don’t make friends and I sure as hell don’t grow attached to anyone, and that’s the reason why I had to push Steven away. I could see more with him. If you can see more with someone, it usually means trouble. When you’re on the run, getting attached to another person is like carrying a dead weight around your neck.
I thought it was a good thing to hook up with him for one night, seeing as he was traveling through Scappoose. He only came to hunt some deer, then he’d head back home.
We had sex, nothing spectacular, but it soothed the craving for another human’s touch.
He never left. I’ve seen him hanging around at the local bar, so I stopped going there.
It’s time to leave. I can feel it in my gut.
