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Last Seen in San Francisco

Summary

I was running away, finally. Well, not literally running away, but it was close enough. I felt the immediate jolt of adrenaline as I biked away from the hell I called my home. My legs petaled further and further, even though they felt dead and limp. I wanted badly to stop and take a break, catch my breath, but I knew that if I stopped now they would find me.

This was my only chance to escape.

I sat up from the thinly cushioned bus seat, awoken by a raspy smoker-voice. After biking to the nearest bus stop, my body had become quite worn and frail once the fight or flight responses had been exhausted. Before waking up, I was recalling the great escape from my mother and father.

The escape had occurred not much longer than 24-hours ago, yet it still kept me in awe. My hearing focused in on the bus drivers speech, apparently the source of the smoker-voice that woke me up.

"Miss, we're at your stop." He called out to the back of the bus where I had been sleeping.

I smiled slightly at him and said "Thank you." as I passed, my two bags in hand. As I got off the bus, I ran my hand along the sides of the large vehicle until I reached my bike. After removing it from the bus I knocked hard on the Plexiglas of the buses emergency door and began walking.