Sincerely, Emma

I was tired. After going to the bank and withdrawing all of my money to put it in a different account - one under my name, without my parent’s names attached - I’d also gotten a credit card. It hadn’t taken very long, surprisingly. All I had to do was make a quick stop, throw about who’s daughter I was, and presto! Afterwards, I got on the road, and I’d been driving ever since, stopping a time or two for gas, a snack, and a few bottles of water. I made sure to use the restroom when I stopped, avoiding having to stop again just for that.

I finally reached a small town and pulled into their motel at ten thirty. I grabbed my suitcase and walked in, making sure to lock my car and making sure I had my wallet and everything important out of it.

Upon entering the building, I found that it was a homey little establishment. The woman at the desk seemed to be in her thirties, but was extremely perky when I stepped up and asked for a room for the night.

“Oh, of course! Just for tonight?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I smiled at her, “I’m in a bit of a rush.”

“Ah, you young types,” she smiled, “there’s another one just like you here, there is! He checked in at eight, though. Arrived on a bus. And he has to wait for the noon bus tomorrow, poor dear! He was in as much of a hurry as you are. Oh! Room! Right, sorry. I get a bit off track, you know! Let’s see…how does room fourteen sound? It’s right down this hall to the right, and the first door on the left at the top of the stairs!”

“Thank you,” I smiled at her again, waiting to take the key, “how much will this be?”

“Oh, it’s not as much as you might think. For room fourteen - it’s a kitchenette, you know - it’s only eighty-nine for the night. Is that all right, or would you prefer our seventy-four dollar room?” she was eager to please.

“Fourteen is fine,” I handed her my credit card and allowed her to swipe it before I took the key. “Thank you.”

“No problem, dear!” she waved to me until I was out of sight around the corner.

I carried my suitcase up the stairs and unlocked the room I’d be spending the night in. I entered, flicking on the light and dropping my suitcase on the chair right by the door. I locked myself in, taking a look at my surroundings. The beige décor wasn’t anywhere near my traditional orange and blue, but it would do. First things first, again - I went to take a shower, changing into a pair of shorts I’d remembered to throw in for pajamas at the last minute, and a large, baggy, System of a Down shirt. I brushed my teeth once more, and then lay down to sleep.

I woke to the sun peeking through the - beige - curtains of my motel room, and rolled out of bed with a yawn, glancing at the alarm clock that I hadn’t bothered to set. It boldly proclaimed that the time was eight forty-seven. I rubbed my eyes before getting up and grabbing a change of clothes. I didn’t bother going into the bathroom, but pulled on the jeans I chose (faded, with a tear in the right knee) and a Tinker Bell shirt right in the middle of my room. I pulled on a pair of green socks to go with the green shirt, and pulled on my torn and well-worn black Converse. I pulled out a granola bar and ate it as a quick sort of breakfast before brushing my teeth and hair, and throwing my hair back into a ponytail again.

After putting my dirty clothes in a plastic bag, I put them in my suitcase, along with my bathroom bag, and zipped the case closed on them. Then I picked the suitcase up and headed out the door after one last look around the room to make sure I had everything I needed and had brought. I pulled out my walled to glance in and see how much cash I actually had as I walked down the stairs. Fifty-three dollars and seventy-six cents. I had a good thirty thousand in my bank account, because I hardly ever had the need to use my own money when I lived at the family estate. Fifteen thousand of it was for my ‘college fund’…if I had gotten to go. I got a degree over the internet, since Mom ‘couldn’t bear to have her baby out of the house!’

I put the money away before I got downstairs, and focused on going to check out. I was looking to make sure my shoes were tied - the laces felt kind of loose - when I bumped into someone who was coming out of his room.

“Oh - I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” I stopped, apologizing.

“No, I’m sorry, I should have checked before I opened my door - it’s not Emma Evans, is it?”

I stared, and he stared right back.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I said. “Ian? Ian Owens…?”

“Great! Just great!” he sighed, leaning against his doorframe and looking at me. “Just trying to get away, and my life finds me!”

“Wait, what?” was my intelligent answer. “I’m the one trying to get away.”

He looked at me confusedly, and I looked right back in the same manner.

“No way.” he said then, shaking his head. “The Emma Valerie Evans? Leaving behind her mansion in the woods? All five hundred acres that she lives on? Who would want to leave that behind, eh?”

“Me,” I said stubbornly, “and you, too. You left your four-story mansion in the middle of New York City? What for?”

“I’m just trying to get away,” he said, averting his gaze. “I’m not a kid, and I sure as hell don’t want to be stuck running a business for the rest of my life, before I even get a chance to live it.”

I laughed, and he turned back to me.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” I waved it off. “I was just thinking the same thing, you know? They want me to marry one of - well, someone like you. Son of a wealthy businessman, you know? I don’t want to. If it did, it would be because I knew him and liked him and not because it would help us get richer. They’re too rich as it is. They’ve let it get to their heads.”

It was Ian’s turn to laugh. “Yeah. Same with Dad.”

“Well, I’m off. I want to get as far away as I can.” I said, waving.

“But the bus doesn’t leave until noon,” he said, blankly. I turned to look at him in amusement.

“You mean to say you took a bus instead of your own car?”

He flushed. “I - well, I didn’t really think it out. I only brought the necessities with me, you know! You must have been planning it, if you thought everything through.”

“Yup,” I said, walking away. “I’ve been planning it since the minute I turned eighteen.”

“What? How old are you now?” I heard him start to follow me.

“I’m nineteen,” I replied, “I’ll be twenty in a few months.”

He let out a low whistle. “And last time I saw you was my twentieth birthday!”

“Which was…over a year ago…right?” I asked, thinking.

“Yeah. I turned twenty-one last month.”

“Ohoho, legal drinking age, are we?” I smirked, and he just laughed.

“Yeah. Now I am. Went out with the guys on my birthday just to piss Dad off. And boy, did that work!”

I joined in his laughter, and suddenly had an idea. Driving alone for hours on end was no fun, and if he’d have to resort to riding buses until he decided he’d had enough…

“Hey, Ian?”

“What?”

“Do you know where you’re going, yet?”

He thought about it, then grinned wide and replied, “Nope. Haven’t got a clue. You?”

“No idea,” I answered, smiling. Then I dropped my suggestion, “You could come with me if you wanted,” I said over my shoulder. “Being alone in a car is kind of boring.”