Page 31 of The Bones We Break
After quickly zipping the bag back up, I dropped it back into the passenger footwell out of sight, then climb out of the car to start filling up. The sharp smell of gasoline hits my nose instantly as I press my fingers down on the handle of the pump, the flammable liquid firing through the pipe into the car’s tank. Turning my head to face the beaten up pump, I watch the numbers flick upwards, getting higher and higher. The pump clicks twice and I tread over to the small shop that’s connectedto the gas station.
The outside is pretty beat up, the paint chipped and missing in places with a few red buckets lined the front with the word FIRE written across them. The screen door continuously smacks the wooden door behind it with the wind, the plastic rattling every time it makes contact. I half expected a chainsaw wielding maniac to come running out of the bushes that lined the perimeter.
Pulling the screen door towards me, then pushing the one behind it to step into the horror like shop. A grim, stale smell hits me face first and I scrunch up my nose at the intrusion. The inside looked just as bad as the outside. Two small shelves make up the space on the black and white chequered floor that has definitely seen better days, a couple of fridges on the outside wall, two with OUT OF ORDER signs taped to them and a lonely magazine rack with the odd few newspapers sitting on the shelves. I could take a wild guess and know the dates on the front pages are from the past.
Stepping past the working fridges, I pick up a couple of bottles of water then move onto the shelves containing the food. The shelves were sparse and bare, like the aftermath of a zombie attack, as if someone had already been in here and taken everything or the owner just never bothered to restock again. I’m going with the latter.
Picking up what I could from my limited options I proceeded to walk over to the small counter where an older man in a greying shirt sat behind it. Coffee stains lined the front and a couple of buttons were missing, exposing his overly tanned, round beer belly. Keeping my eyes low, I gently place my things on the chipped counter. A small TV sits on one of the shelves behind him, the screen flickering every so often showing a woman, who I assume is working for a news channel, beginsspeaking.
“Good evening and welcome back to the 6 o’clock news, you’re here with Paul Ashton.”The camera pans over to a handsome man sitting next to her.“And myself, Emily Pierce. Tonight, the local police are on the hunt for a missing woman, presumed to have run away from her home, which she shared with her husband, almost a week ago.”
The words being spoken put me in a trance, my eyes never straying from the news report as an older picture of me appears on the corner of the pixelated screen, the other co-host begins to speak.“That’s right. Police believe she attacked her husband before fleeing the scene on foot. We currently have her husband on the other line who is wanting to reach out to his wife, wherever she may be.”
A heavy layer of sweat begins to coat my forehead, my chest tightening with anxiety. I don’t even fully notice the man behind the counter scanning my items before I zone back into the news report.
“Mr De Rossi, welcome. We’re so sorry for meeting under these circumstances.”The woman speaks and my heart falls into my stomach, my face draining of all the colour. I feel my hands begin to shake in my pockets.
“Good evening, Emily. Good evening, Paul and thank you for having me on such short notice.”My husband’s voice begins to fill my eardrums, the stale room begins to blur and spin.“I just wanted to quickly come here to attempt to reach out to my wife, wherever she may be. To let her know that I love her so much. Annabelle, my love. Please come home. I need you and I miss you more than you know. Whatever is going on we can fix it. Just the two of us. Please, if you’re seeing this, come back to me. Come back home, where you belong.”
I think I’m going to pass out, right here on this dingy floor. I hope I hit my head hard enough that the blood loss kills me. Terror and fright fire through my blood and I begin to let out frantic breaths through my nose and mouth, oxygen struggles to find its way into my lungs. The big bellied man behind the counter clears this throat, breaking me out of my panic state. My husband’s voice is still playing in the background like a cruel lullaby.
“Excuse me miss, are you even listening?” He asks, his tone annoyed and sharp.
“I.. I’m sorry, I don’t know where I went then.” I manage to get out between bated breaths.
“I said, it’ll be sixty two dollars and fifteen cents with your gas.” He snaps out, his open palm waiting on the chipped, discoloured counter. I jump into action and fist the hundred dollar bill in my pocket before putting it into his hand, his fingers grip around the note as he stashes it into the register drawer. Before he can speak I grab my bag and begin to leave.
“Keep the change.” I spit out and rush towards the exit, quickening my pace as I race towards my car whilst fumbling with the key in my pocket. I scramble around so much that I end up dropping my bag and the key on the dirt floor.
“Shit!” I grit out, tears beginning to spring in my eyes. In a haste, I stuff the items back into the bag and pick up the key before unlocking the car and throwing myself inside, then dropping my stuff onto the passenger seat. Throwing my head back into the headrest, my teeth clattering together at the force, I let the tears fall freely.
How could I have been so blind? I’ve been living in a fucking dreamland thinking I could probably make it out of this, but I guess I was wrong and it won’t be long before Ricky pulls out thebig guns to find me.
Gripping the steering wheel in my hands, I squeeze until my knuckles begin to turn white and attempt to slow my breathing. I can’t drive in this state. I take a couple of minutes to close my eyes, breathing in through my nose for a couple of beats before blowing out through my mouth, repeating the action until my nervous system decides to calm down.
Letting go of the wheel I bring the seatbelt over my body and insert the key into the ignition and start the car before high tailing it out of the gas station, leaving a cloud of dust and rocks in my wake.
After a few more hours of driving my eyes begin to feel heavy, drowsiness quickly taking over me, and I turn the dial on the car’s radio to turn up the volume of the music to keep me awake. It’s dark now, just a small cast of light from the sun can be seen across the horizon. The bright headlights of the car illuminating my way, the yellow lines in the middle of the road disappearing under the car.
Squinting my eyes, I notice a sign on the side of the road. The wordsWelcome to Rockfordcover the front of the sign, an image of a mountain and a bear in the background. How far have I driven to reach a town that I’ve never heard of before. I doubt Ricky will find me here and I’m desperate for some sleep. I decide to take the exit and follow the signs for the small town until I’m pulling into what looks like a main street. The road is lined with small shops and cafes. Florists, a barber shop and what looks to be a car garage.
Leaning forward in my seat, I scour the surrounding areas for somewhere to park when a deafening pop bursts through my ears and I scream, checking over my body to see if I’ve been injured. My arms roam over my torso, chest and shoulders but Idon’t see any blood or feel any pain.
I’m safe. I’m alive.
Looking through the wing mirror I notice my back tire is as flat as a pancake, the rubber squishing every time I move the car. Slamming my hands on the wheel in frustration, I curse and scream to myself.
“Fucking, fuck! Just my fucking luck!” Pulling the car into the garage’s car park, which luckily wasn’t too far, I turned the ignition off and the car’s engine cut out. My forehead meets the steering wheel and I sigh in frustration, anger and whatever else is going on in my head. The emotions are all fighting for dominance and I can’t seem to focus on a single one. I highly doubt there is anywhere open at this time for me to stay so my only option is to lock myself in my car and try to get some sleep on the backseat and hopefully explain to the owner of, I turn my head to the side to read the neon sign,Demon Motors,why I’m currently parked in their car park with a flat tire at silly o’clock in the morning, looking like I haven’t slept for weeks.
“Fuck!” I gasp out, my chest tightening with every breath I inhale.
My eyes roam around the dark space, trying to recognise the room I’m in. After a moment I realise I’m in bed and the continuous nightmare I have almost every night has plagued my sleep again like a poison. The vivid images of my last job play across my mind like a film that I can’t turn off. A never ending purgatory that I can’t escape from. My chest heaves and aches as I try to slow my rapid breathing, my lungs struggling to take in a full breath. A thin layer of sweat coats my skin, the dampness soaking into the bed sheet that’s now growing cold underneath me.
Closing my eyes for a moment I try to bring myself back down to earth, putting my breathing techniques from the Marines into good use. The fog behind my eyelids begins to clear and the stabbing pain in my chest eases. A thin sliver of light pushes its way through the gap in the curtains, sending a streak through the room and across the bed. I turn on my side to check the time on the clock, a couple of minutes until it reaches5am. Huffing, I flop backwards onto the bed again, the springy mattress bounces under my weight. Stretching my arms out to the sides, my fingers reaching over the edges of the king-sizemattress, I hear soft little footsteps coming down the hall before the bedroom door swings open, revealing the tops of Lyla’s ears before she makes her way over to the side of the bed, her wet nose poking at my fingers. I chuckle to myself at her demands and pat the empty space at the side of me, gesturing for her to jump on. She rears back before springing into the air and landing on the bed with a soft thud before spinning a few times then plonking herself down in the perfect place. A content sigh leaves her mouth and I rub the spot between her ears.
“Don’t get too comfy, baby girl, we’re going for a run soon.” I say, teasing her. She huffs and turns away from me, clearly not impressed with my decision. After a couple of minutes of staring at the ceiling and listening to Lyla’s snores I decide to get up, throwing the cold sheet off my body and swinging my legs out of the bed and going through my morning routine of coffee, run, feed Lyla, shower, dress then head out to work.
Same shit, different day.
