scamper

the darkness was closing in on the remaining sunlight, and night was coming quickly. she fumbled with the hotel room key between her fingers as she walked to the shabby room. she turned the key in the lock and found just what had been expected. overhead was a light that hung down in the center of the room, as if she'd just stepped in on a criminal interrogation. the hunter green carpet under her feet was so old that it appeared itchy, the round table was most likely present in the days of king arthur, and the thought of the bed was terrifying. so she turned right around and went to the backseat of her car, set up a makeshift bed, and climbed up onto the roof of her old focus. 

as the stars came out to play for the night, she dwelt on all the reasons that life had brought her here. wasn't easy to discover why, but the facts were so simple. she was literally trying to outrun herself. what they said she was and who she felt like she was were two different people, but reputations stay much longer than perceptions. and instead of just facing it...this time it was just too much - so she ran. disappeared from life-as-you-know-it with one final goodbye. she felt guilty for not loving those around her more, at least enough to let them in on this horrific secret. but nobody understood, and it was for the better. they probably would have talked her out of it, and she didn't want to be talked out of anything she was doing. 

the plan was to set up in a whole new town with a new identity and be whoever she wanted to be. to make no attachments, no history. history breeds resentment. the less interaction with humans, the better. they expect too much and they want even more. she could lie low long enough to establish things. and then, if things ever got too complicated again, she could disappear....

...if only dreams could just be real.