Status: Alive

Just Another Milk Carton Add

. t w o .

I stood shakily after a long sleepless night in the wheat field. I looked around me and noticed the bright red light of the rising sun in the East. My final destination was in that general direction and it was also the opposite direction of my prison. I looked about me once more and began running towards the sun.

Part of me hoped that if I ran long enough, I'd find him but the other, more rational part of me, knew that was impossible. I knew deep down that he wasn't going to wait for me to resurface. He had probably forgotten me. It's been too long since I've seen him.

After a seemingly short amount of time I reached a rest stop. I entered cautiously, not wanting to be noticed by a soul. I went immediately to the restroom to fix my appearance. I looked in the mirror and was slightly shocked by my reflection. I looked so strange; my hair had darkened from its originally rich auburn do a dark, almost black, brownish color. My eyes, once a bright green had dulled to a moss color, and my skin had paled a frightening amount. My pale lips, now rough and cracked, frowned at my gaunt face. I fixed my hair as best I could, straightened my navy blue button down and tan dress over it and left the bathroom.

I picked up a state map of New York. I walked quickly over to the information desk. The lady sitting there was old and angry looking. She frightened me so the first time I tried to speak my breath got caught in my throat and I couldn't speak. The woman frowned and grunted said in a raspy voice, "What? What do you want?"
"C-Could you tell me w-where we are?" I stuttered. The woman grunted again and got a highlighter. She then ripped the map from my hands and circled a spot.
"Where do you need to go?" I started back to life and quickly fumbled in the pockets of my dress and pulled out a one-way train ticket. "Uh, t-this train station p-please." The lady nodded and highlighted a path to the train station. While working I noticed a wall of missing children posters, most of which were cut from milk cartons. One of them I recognized as me. She finished and explained which ways to go and such while pointing with her disgustingly long fingernails. I nodded, forced a smile, thanked her briefly, grabbed the map and ran from the rest stop before she could possibly make the connection and call the cops.

Once I was a safe distance from there, I slowed myself to a walk and continued in the direction of my train station.