A Heart of Gold

The sun is scorching down relentlessly as Skylar walks down the highway towards the nearest city; he can feel his scalp beginning to burn and the hot air around him is making him uncomfortable. Even taking off his hoodie hasn’t helped; the plaid shirt he’s wearing may be thinner but it doesn’t reduce his sweating at all. Taking the shirt off would help, but Skylar doesn’t want to risk getting burned. He’s definitely going to get a nice, big brimmed hat at the next gas station, no doubt about it. That would make his scalp feel better, at least. The air is flickering in the distance and Skylar can feel the heat radiating off the asphalt through the soles of his shoes. How much more uncomfortable can a person get?

He has been walking for almost ten hours, only resting to eat his packed lunch which he had taken with him, with other necessities, in his duffel bag. Skylar wants to get as far as possible from the City before he would stop to rest at some roadside motel. He hadn’t forgotten to take all the cash he could find in the house with him; by using only cash, his parents won’t be able to find him. Skylar’s intention is never to go back to that horrible place and to start a life full of happiness somewhere else, once he has found his heart, of course.

And that will be a difficult task to complete. He has no idea where the crow could’ve taken the locket which holds his heart, he doesn’t even know if his heart has stayed in one piece. Skylar could just forget about ever owning a heart and start the real life now, but he refuses to give up hope. No, he can’t give up, that’s not an option. Because even though he could be free to live without hardships, he wouldn’t live for long. No one can live without their heart, and he has been living with a hole in his chest for the last three years. Skylar’s time is running out, slowly but surely.

In the far distance, Skylar sees a shabby gas station and starts to walk towards it with a little more speed. Once he reaches it, he notices it is actually open, and serving a few customers. What a stroke of luck for him. Skylar hasn’t seen any other stations that are open, or in a good enough condition to be open, on the way here, so he is in a dire need of shelter and some cold water, maybe food too.

Opening the door Skylar steps in, carefully eyeing the worker at the register and quickly glancing at the other customers. No one seems familiar to him. That’s a good sign. There are only three men, probably friends if the noise they are making gives anything away, drinking coffee and a family that must be on a summer vacation trip, seeing they are all wearing shorts and thin t-shirts. Skylar feels a jealous pang in his chest where his heart should be. They all look so happy. A faint country song can be heard in the background, and the waitress who just finished serving the happy family bobs her head slightly to the beat of it.

The man at the counter in his late fifties notices Skylar walking towards him. He eyes Skylar a bit warily, maybe for not knowing him, but still smiles politely at him once Skylar reaches the register. “Hello there, sir. How may I help you?” the man asks. Skylar looks at the menu hanging on the wall behind the man.

“Um, I’d like a steak with mashed potatoes and water, please.” Skylar’s voice is deep, and slightly hoarse from not being used for a while. “Okay, the total is $22.46. Here’s your number and the food will be served soon.” The man whose name is Bernard, according to the nametag in front of his plaid shirt, gives him the number and Skylar walks to the furthest corner of the dining area. From there he can see all the other customers and outside, so no one can surprise him by sneaking up behind him. Skylar has become a bit paranoid for fearing that his parents are about to find him, and not having a proper night of sleep doesn’t help at all.

Sitting in the booth Skylar rubs his face tiredly. The walking is starting to take its toll on him; he can feel his legs burning and the bags under his eyes are evident. The next big city is 50 miles from where Skylar is now, and he intends to travel there within the next day. From there on he could catch a train or a plane and go anywhere he wants, or anywhere the hole in his chest is leading him to. You see, even if Skylar has cut that beating muscle out of his chest, there still is a connection between him and the heart; an inseparable bond that can’t be severed, and Skylar is trusting it to lead him to his heart.

Just as Bernard the register man said, it doesn’t take long for the lunch Skylar ordered to be placed in front of him. His stomach grumbles loudly and the waitress chuckles lightly, “There you go sir, bon appétit, as they say.” Skylar thanks her and is about to dig in when the waitress adds quickly before leaving, “Oh, and nice tattoo you have there.”

Skylar smiles weakly. The tattoo the waitress mentioned is on his chest. It covers the most of it and right now a part of it is peeking from the neckline of his white wife-beater. There are three pairs of wings and a broken time glass with the sand trickling out in it. Someone might be horrified of a tattoo of that size but to Skylar, it’s anything but horrible. It covers the scar on his chest; the scar that he inflicted on himself on that dark day. But it also reminds him of the fact that he must get his heart back someday, that his sand in the time glass is running out faster than others’.

A low grumble from his stomach reminds Skylar of the delicious looking meal in front of him. After taking a sip of the cool water he grabs the utensils and starts to eat. It doesn’t take long for Skylar to satisfy his hunger, and after eating his plate clean, he sits more comfortably and rubs his stomach in content. The meal was totally worth the money he had to pay for it.

After a while Skylar stands up from the table and grabs his duffle bag. He leaves tip on the table for good service and heads towards the store section of the gas station. He scans the shelves for anything he might need on his journey and after searching for a bit, he finds the map of the city where he’s headed, a pair of socks and toothpaste. The latter two were on the list because he had forgotten to take his toothpaste and an extra pair of socks with him. Oh well, you can’t always remember everything.

In the corner of the store Skylar sees a stand that sells the state’s football team’s merchandise. He goes over it and looks at the products closer, finding one particular item interesting. It’s a black flat bill with a huge golden colored ‘M’ on it. That would do for a new hat to shelter Skylar’s poor scalp from the burning sun rays. Taking the cap with him he walks back to the counter where Bernard is standing again, picking some gummy bears to munch on. Bernard scans Skylar’s shopping and when he gets to the flat bill, he smiles a bit.

“So, you‘re supporting the Tigers?” he asks. Skylar gives a nod. “Well, they really need all the cheer they can get; they’re playing pretty badly this year.” Skylar agrees halfheartedly and after packing all the things he bought he waves for goodbye and smiles briefly to Bernard and the waitress before stepping out of the shabby gas station. Skylar straightens the strap of his duffle bag on his shoulder, puts his new shiny cap on and starts heading towards the city where he hopefully gets some kind of a feeling where to go, and most importantly, towards a better future.



As the night falls, Skylar has found a cheap roadside motel to spend the night in. He has taken the cheapest room available, so the quality isn’t the same which he is used to; being a son of two mafia bosses had its perks sometimes. But the low maintenance doesn’t bother him at the moment at all; being on the road for the last twenty hours does that to you. When Skylar had gotten into the room he, after making sure the door was firmly locked, had collapsed on the musty bed from sheer exhaustion. But no matter how tired he is, he doesn’t seem to be able to fall asleep; the adrenaline from being alert the whole day and some more must be mixing his hormones up. Now he is just lying on the mattress and thinking about everything in general, and his thoughts inevitably turn to the twisted ‘situation’ at the place once known as his home.

Skylar can’t believe he really has run out of that hell hole. He just expects to wake up at any moment; to hear the sharp knock on his door which lets him know his parents want him down for breakfast, to discuss about what horrible acts he is going to do today in the name of ‘The Family’. Oh God, how he hated, and still hates, those mornings and the pressuring feel in the air that arrived every morning to join them for breakfast, and any other occasion they had to be in the same room. The first time it graced them with its presence was the morning after the night Skylar had had his first ‘guest’ over, and it never left. Well, maybe now that Skylar isn’t there anymore, the atmosphere in the house is less stifling; after all the ones living in there enjoy what they do and aren’t disgusted by it, like he is. So, they’ll just forget Skylar ever existed and continue living their lives contently. That would be the best, for Skylar at least.

Eventually Skylar’s eyelids start to droop and feel pretty heavy, and a wave of tiredness hits him. Finally the sleep arrives. Skylar can’t bother changing out of his jeans so, with a yawn good enough for a boy who hasn’t slept properly for the last twenty hours, he just turns to his left side adjusting himself a bit better, and right before falling asleep he thinks how bad he must smell. Well, the shower can wait until morning.

And for the first time in who knows when, Skylar falls asleep without the depressing thoughts swirling in his mind; instead he has a faint smile on his lips.