On My Own

I tossed my phone into the middle of the busy street and kept walking to the bus station. I purchased a ticket and climbed aboard the large bus. I sat in the middle of the bus, sliding my bag off my shoulder and onto my lap. This is it, I thought to myself, I’m free. The bus began moving. I slouched down, making myself comfortable. I pulled out a Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul book and began reading.

Two buses later, I was bookless and hungry. The two buses took two-and-a-half hours, plus I hadn’t eaten all day. I slid on my large, nerd glasses and walked toward McDonald’s that was glowing down the street. I stepped inside and ordered myself a cheeseburger, fries and large Pepsi. I ate my food and asked the guy sitting at the table next to me for the time. He told me it was almost seven, so I refilled my Pepsi and started walking the streets of Huntington Beach.

I walked into a liquor store and started eyeing my choices. Raspberry UV or just plain Smirnoff vodka? I picked up the Smirnoff and felt a hand touch my arm. “You made the right choice,” a tall, muscular, tattooed guy said. “Now, are you going to drink it straight or mix it up?” His head nodded at my large McDonald’s cup.

“Drink it straight; it’s the only way to do it,” I told him. He took the bottle out of my hand and grabbed a twenty-four pack of beer. “What’re you doing?” I tried to get my future vodka back.

“Buying you a drink,” he replied, setting the booze in front of the cashier. He pulled out his wallet and dropped a few bills. “No change.” The cashier bagged my bottle and Matt handed it to me. “Could I get your number?”

“I’m new to the area so why don’t you give me yours and I’ll give you a call?” I suggested, pulling a Sharpie from my bag. He wrote his number on my arm. “What’s your name?”

“Matt. What’s yours?” Matt questioned.

“Adeline,” I said. I took my marker back from him. “I’ll see you around. Thanks for the vodka.” We smiled and he held the door open for me. I saw him get into his truck and I started walking down the street. I saw a Super 8 hotel and checked in. I went to room 128 and collapsed on my bed. I laid there a few minutes before looking at the number on my arm. Smiling, I copied the number on the notepad on my nightstand and headed into the shower.

Thirty minutes later, I was in a large t-shirt and giggly. I sat against my bed, my knees pulled up to my chest. I took a large gulp of the Smirnoff, ignoring the burn as it went down my throat. Poisoning myself was better than listening to them.

“You’re a stupid piece of shit,” my brother yelled at his girlfriend, causing me to wake up. “You are supposed to support me and you take the other side? What the fuck?”

“You were wrong!” His girlfriend screamed back. “And don’t you fucking call me stupid!”

“Well you are!” I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “And I’m always fucking right!”

“Well you weren’t and all you are is annoying the fuck out of me. I’m done with you!” There was a sound of a smack and I groaned.

“Why the fuck did you just do that? You want to do that again? I fucking dare you!” This was not going to be good. I heard another smack and threw a large pillow at my door. “Brittany, go back to bed!”

“Why don’t you two shut the fuck up?” I replied. “Tell your bimbo to just go the fuck home and why don’t you go sleep off the alcohol?”

“Stay the hell out of this!” His girlfriend yelled, opening my door. “You have no idea what happened!”

“I know that you two fucking woke me up and that you have a home you can go to so why don’t you just fucking leave before he hits you and you start crying even though you’ve been smacking him?” I asked her. She let out a scream and my brother grabbed her.

“Enough,” he told her. “You’re gone.” He dragged his bimbo out of my room and I shut my door. I could hear screaming outside and turned my TV on. I blasted the volume and hoped I could get some sleep.

I downed some more vodka and looked at the half-empty bottle. “You’re supposed to make them both just shut the fuck up,” I said. I flipped the television on and put on the news. I sipped some more Smirnoff before setting it on my nightstand. The news started talking everything that had happened today and tomorrow’s weather.

There wasn’t anything about me on there, but I wasn’t surprised. It would take a few days before anyone actually realized I was gone. And even if they realized sooner, no one would know what happened to Brittany Perkins. The latest picture on Facebook looked nothing me. My blond hair was now brown and much shorter. I now had a pair of glasses that were just for show. I had none of my clothes from my closet; I was planning on shopping tomorrow and had a couple of new shirts. I was also going to go job hunting tomorrow for the first time in my life.

Nobody was going to find me and I was going to make sure of that. Brittany Perkins was gone and Adeline Armstrong was ready to take on Huntington Beach, California.