Broken Souls

Upon waking with a sudden chill and fear gripping me, I needed a moment to reassure myself of my temporary safety. For the past five years, I've lived on the run, constantly vigilant, never allowing myself to settle. The concept of home feels so distant and unfamiliar now, leaving me utterly drained. Some days, I consider surrendering, halting my escape and allowing him to catch up to me. Yet, the memory of what he inflicted upon my family drives me forward—I refuse to suffer their fate. I must resist; it's my only recourse, even though I understand he'll never let me go. (I long for my parents, who were affectionate and nurturing. I cherish memories of their voices and laughter. We spent countless hours at the park and days at the beach, with my dad chasing me around and my mother smiling beautifully, brightening even the darkest days. They were amazing parents, always there for me no matter the time of day, always making time for me. They made everything we did extra special.) I push the memory aside because I can’t afford to dwell on it right now; I need to concentrate on staying ahead. I’ve been on the road for two days, sleeping in my car, and I’m in desperate need of a shower. Fortunately, I spotted a sign for Granbury, a town about five miles away. I’ll need to find some money, which means I’ll have to get a temporary job until I can hit the road again. I've learned not to stay in one place for more than two months—if I do, he will find me, and I can't afford that after all this time. I learned this lesson the hard way when I thought I had put enough distance between us and got too comfortable. I took a job at a bar, thinking it would be fine, but it turned out to be a huge mistake. He walked into the bar where I worked back in Laredo, and I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. The look in his eyes clearly said the unspoken words: (I will always find you.) - I departed in the middle of the night, immediately after completing my work and receiving my pay for the evening. I stopped at the gas station to use the restroom. After parking my car, I grabbed my backpack with some clean clothes and essentials to freshen up. I went into the restroom, relieving myself, and cleaned up as best as I could under the circumstances. Once finished, I checked myself in the mirror. Given my limited wardrobe, I chose skinny jeans and a black long-sleeve v-neck shirt. As I walked back to my vehicle, I was lost in my thoughts and didn’t notice that the gas station had more customers now. Just as I reached my car, I heard someone whistle. For a moment, I froze in place, a shiver of fear running down my spine. I used to be much braver than this. I used to never take any s**t from anyone, but being on the run and constantly looking over my shoulder for so long has made me into someone who is now afraid of my own shadow. I slowly turned around, bracing myself for whatever—or rather, whoever—was behind me. My gaze met the iciest blue eyes I had ever seen, as if he could peer into my soul. He was undeniably handsome, Tall with broad shoulders, with smooth skin and a well trimmed beard, dark brown hair and a body that would get any woman wet on the spot. Don’t judge; I’m still a woman, and with such a striking figure leaning against his bike, I couldn’t look away even if I tried. A car backfired, snapping me back to reality and sending fear over me. I quickly got into my car and drove away. I pulled over a few blocks away to calm my nerves and steady my racing heart. I’m unsure how much longer I can keep this up, but for now, I need to find a place to stay.