AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Natalia
The close callat the festival leaves me shaken to the core as I slip away from the motel, my bag feels unusually heavy on my shoulder – not from its contents, but from the weight of the decision it represents. I've been through this routine of fleeing and hiding more times than I care to count, but it never gets easier.
The motel is quiet, with only the soft hum of a distant television breaking the silence. I keep my head down as I walk, but I'm painfully aware of every sound, every shadow. The familiar corridors, which have provided a sense of safety these past weeks, now feel like a maze I need to navigate one last time.
As I pass by the edge of the parking lot, Marlene calls me over from her older model car.
The car is a faded green, its paint chipping and rusting in certain areas. The headlights are slightly foggy, and the windshield is cracked in multiple places. The doors have scratches and dents, showing signs of years of use.
"Heading out, Talia?" she asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"Just needed some fresh air," I reply, forcing a smile through the lie. I don't want to have to explain where I'm going or why, not even to the woman who seemed to have my back the entire time I've worked here. I prefer for her to read my note when they realize I’m gone, hopefully tomorrow. "Can't sleep," I add.
She nods, but glances at my bag with curiosity. "I know the feeling. Well, be safe out there."
"Thanks, I will," I say, stepping out into the shadows at the edge of the parking lot on the way to the bus station. A couple of guests are returning from a late-night outing, their laughter heightening the tension gripping me. They nod in my direction as they pass, and I nod back, keeping my expression neutral.
"Goodnight," one of them says.
"Night," I reply, not stopping.
My heart is pounding. I’m so close to leaving, yet still so vulnerable.
Once I'm sure I'm out of sight, I break into a brisk walk, then a jog. Every step takes me further from the motel, from the temporary life I've built here, and I’m going into the unknown.
My thoughts turn to Antonio, to the memories we share, and the what-ifs that haunt me. In another life, perhaps we could have had something real, something lasting. But in this life, our love is overshadowed by danger and deceit. It's a cruel twist of fate that I can't seem to escape.
As I leave the lights of the motel behind, the darkness of the night surrounds me. It's a fitting metaphor for my life – moving from one shadow to another. It's the only way I can stay safe. For now, at least.
The streets are quiet as I make my way to the bus station, the only sounds being my footsteps on the pavement and the distant bark of a dog. My heart beats in my chest like a drum, each step away from the motel a mix of relief and apprehension. The night air is cool against my skin, a welcome break from the sometimes overbearing warmth of the room I just left behind.
I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, my nerves on edge. Every car that passes, every rustle of the wind, sends a jolt of anxiety through me. I'm aware of how unsafe I am out here in the open, but I push those thoughts aside. I need to focus on getting to the bus station, on getting out of Taos.
As the bus station comes into view, the flickering street light unexplainably causing a wave of emotion wash over me. This is it. I'm leaving again, leaving behind another piece of my life. The station is almost deserted at this late hour, save for a few travelers and the night shift worker behind a glass-encased counter.
I walk up to the ticket booth, my steps faltering slightly. The clerk, a middle-aged man, looks up as I reach. "Where to?" he asks.
I pause for a moment, considering. I've thought about this, planned it, but now that I'm here, the finality of it hits me. "The next bus heading out of town," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
He nods, tapping on his computer. "Next one's leaving in twenty minutes.”
“Great. I’ll take it.”
He eyes me more closely. “You don’t care where it’s going?”
“Sure,” I say, although I truly don’t care. “What’s the destination?”
“Phoenix. Will that work for you?"
"Yes, that's fine," I say, handing over the cash for the ticket.
Ticket in hand, I take a seat in the waiting area, keeping to myself. I clutch my bag tightly, the letters from my mother pressed against my side. They're a reminder of what I'm leaving behind, but also of what I'm carrying with me – hope, memories, and the strength that comes from knowing I've survived this long.
As I wait for the bus, I allow myself one last look back at town. It's been a brief stop in my turbulent journey, but it's left its mark on me. I think of the motel, the self-defense classes, the festival, the brief moments of joy I found there. But more than that, I think of what might have been – a life free from my famiglia.
But that life isn't meant for me, not yet. As a bus pulls into the station, I stand up and take a deep breath, ready to face whatever lies ahead.
As I'm lost in these thoughts, someone walks toward the line at the bus stop but doesn’t join it. It’s a man dressed in black, but I can’t make out his face because the streetlights are bright behind him. He keeps walking along the line, looking at each person. The hairs at the back of my neck stand on edge when I realize he might be looking for me. The urge to leave washes over me. I want to bolt, but the bus is supposed to arrive in the next five minutes. As I weigh my options, there’s something about the way the man walks that has some familiarity to it. It’s enough to make me stay in line, but I avert my eyes just in case I’m wrong.
