“All I wanted want some .59 cent mandarin oranges, not to kill the president!”
Isn’t it strange how your parents give you a name before you’re even born, before they know what you look like they give you something that will stay with you forever. You may not look like a Bob but they name you that because that is the name they liked. I always thought it was pretty selfish. Your parents get to choose your name and no matter how you turn out or what your name means that is it. I went to school with this girl named Joy, was she joyful, no. She was emo, always wearing black clothes and make-up. For all I know, she could have dressed like that just to spite her parents and her name. She is stuck with that name forever and she just doesn’t look the name she was given. I’ve never had that problem.
My name is Scarlett but people call me Scar. I find it funny that people called me Scar before I even got the scar. It is like they knew one day I would live up to the name. Hell, my Mom probably named me that because she knew she would one day scar my face and she wanted me to have a name that matched the face. Who knows.
Sitting on this Greyhound bus right now all I feel is stares at the scar. It makes me nervous. I know they are sitting there wondering, what the fuck happened to that girl. Coming up with stories about how I probably was hit by a drunk driver and was lucky to survive. People make up these stories because they are scared for the truth. They don’t want to look at a 19 year old girl and see that someone evil cut her up. No, they want to live in their own little worlds where evil things like that don’t happen. I hate to tell them that this wasn’t an accident and that people are evil. That no one is really what they seem. But that isn’t my place, so I let them think I save a kid from drowning and a rock cut me or whatever story they make up. Because sometimes the truth is too hard for them to understand.
“I am so fuckin’ ready to get off this bus!”
“Sweety, calm down. We are almost there I promise. Here let me get your iPhone charger.”
I look over to see a middle age woman and a girl who can’t be no older than sixteen.
“Mom, this is utter bullshit and you fucking know it.” I flinch because if I would have ever talked to my Mother like that she would end me.
“Kinsley! Shush down! People are staring!”
The blonde teenager glares at her Mom. I see her start to say something but then her eyes shoot straight up to mine. I quickly turn my head but I know she saw me. I know this because she says, “What the fuck MOM! There is a fucking freak on the bus!!! I am so done with this shit!!! ANY NORMAL PERSON WOULD JUST DRIVE A CAR!!! but nooooo, not my Mother. Now I’m stuck on this shit hole having to look at THAT!”
I feel people staring but I keep my face turned to the window. I feel the burn of tears in my eyes but I stop them. I can’t let this bitchy teenage princess see she affected me. I’ve heard this a whole lot worse. I’m more ready than her to get off this fuckin’ bus.
One Hour Later
“About damn time.” The bitchy blonde princess says to her Mom as she gets her bags and practically runs of the bus. Her Mom slowly follows after her.
I wait to be the last one that gets off so that I don’t run into that girl again.
The bus driver watches me closely as I grab my bag and walk past him. He looks like I am about to take out a knife and stank him. I can’t help but let a little giggle escape me and he flinches back. Now I am full out laughing because that is no lie the funniest shit I’ve ever seen. He has got to be a good 300 pounds and he is scared of a girl that barely weight 120. I kind of just want to flinch towards him just to see what he would do but I don’t because I am scared he would just punch me in the throat. That crap hurts so I fight the urge to fuck with this man and just get off the bus.
I stepped off the bus into the blistering heat of Heartswell, Colorado... My new home.
I looked around the bus stop noticing that I was practically alone. It seems not a lot of people come nor leave here, which is perfect for me. I can hide in this small little town and no one will be able to find me.
I smiled a little. I can finally be free. I broke into a huge smile. It felt so good to finally smile. This was it. My freedom.
I want to explore my new town. I walked around the edge of the old bus station, passed the few cars in the parking lot and headed toward the front of the station. I stopped at the tiny street and looked both ways. There were a few people walking around but no one payed any attention to me, perfect. I didn’t know where I was going to live, where I was going to work, or even have enough money in my pocket for my next meal but I was happy. Happier than I have been in such a long time. I used the money I had started saving up when I was 13 from working odd jobs until I was 16. Then I had gotten a real job at the movie theatre and all my money was put up from that.
The week before I turned eighteen I had asked a girl I went to school with to buy me a bus ticket in her name. She had wanted to know why I couldn’t do it in mine and I had lied and told her it was because my ID had expired. She believed me but I knew that deep down she knew the real reason. She just didn’t want to believe it like everyone else in our home town. She had bought me the ticket and that was that. I waited a week, turned eighteen, packed some clothes and hopped on the next bus to some town in Chicago. When I had gotten to Chicago, I paid a stranger at the bus stop to buy me a ticket to anywhere. She did and now I am here... Heartwells County, with no money...
My stomach reminded me of that fact by rumbling really loud.
I don’t even remember the last time I ate. I need some food and then I can look for a job. I continued walking down the street until I came across a grocery store. The sign said its name was Grocery. Simple and blunt. I found it funny and laughed a little before taking my bag off my shoulder. I sat the bag on the ground to search for any money I may have left in the bottom but all I found was three quarters and a penny. That is not going to get me very far. My stomach grumbled again. I frowned and made one of my first of many mistakes in my new town.
“Good Afternoon!”, the lady from behind the counter said as I walked in. I waved a little and walked down the first aisle looking for some cheap I could buy that would cover up my stealing. I wasn’t proud of myself, stealing food, but I had learned the hard way that sometimes you have to do bad things to make sure you stay alive. I learned that lesson the hard way.
The first aisle was nothing but bottled products so I went to the next. I grabbed a box of cereal bars, looked around and stuffed them into my bag, heart pounding. The next aisle I grabbed some canned ravioli. I took a few of those because you could eat these cold and they still be pretty good. I heard the lady from the front call out “good afternoon” to a customer . It sounded like a group of people so I figured I had enough for the next few days and started to actually look for something to buy. I spied some mandarin oranges for only .59 cent. Score!
Walking towards the front to checkout I heard what must of been the people the lady from the front greeted. They were laughing at something and one voice said, “fuck off.” It sounded hard and mean but the other just kept laughing.
I just want to get out of here as fast as I could. I felt nerves. I have only ever stolen from the store across the street from my old home. I knew everyone there and knew there were no cameras there. I always thought the wife and husband who ran the store knew I stole from them but didn’t care. This was different, this was a new place, new people who didn’t know me, and were probably already watching me because of my scar. I just wanted to get out of here.
I finally approached the counter and sat my lone item down. The old lady was turned around doing something.
“Just give me a second dear.” she said without even looking at me.
I didn’t want to wait a second. I felt like something bad was going to happen and I wanted to get the fuck out of this place. I thought about just setting the change down on the counter and just walking out. I didn’t do that though. I just waited. When the old bitch finally decided to turn around I wished I would have just walked out.
“Sorry about that hon...Ahhhh!!” she screamed.
Yes the cunt took one look at my face and screamed. I wanted to punch her in the face. Stupid bitch. I just stood there and stared at her while she grew red from embarrassment.
Yep, you know you’re a cunt.
Next thing I know I hear the cocking of two guns and feel one at the back of my head.
“What is going on Miss Mary?” dickhead number one said from behind me.
Nice.. they just point guns at innocent, okay kinda innocent, people and then ask questions. Real fucking nice.
“It is just a ....”
I just couldn’t take it anymore and turned around to face this dick. The gun was now resting at my forehead and I saw three men standing there in leather jackets. The one holding the gun to my head was hot, like mega hot with a cherry on top. Long black hair that I was sure made men and women jealous. It was just silky and I could tell he was from Indian descent. He was tall. Probably the tallest person I’ve ever seen which isn’t saying a lot considering I am 5’1 maybe. I looked up to his face and all I saw was silver eyes widened in shock then I saw his eyes flicker to my scar and that shock was replaced with disgust. That made my chest ache and I flipped. “She screamed because she saw my face, happy? Now lower the damn gun so I can pay for my shit and get the fuck outta here!!!” by the time I finished that sentence I was screaming.
He jerked like he had been hit and lowered his gun.
“Thanks asshole.” with that I turned around picked up my can and dropped the changed on the counter and walked out. The old lady didn’t even look me in the face and I didn’t dare turn around to see what the dick trio was doing. I vowed then and there to never come back to that store again.
What I didn’t know then was that in a few minutes I would wish I never went in there in the first place....