I Was There

I didn’t wake up early, because I never fell asleep. But he did. He slept the only way he could—drunk sleep—the worst kind of sleep to have but the best kind of sleep to witness. I dressed quietly and didn’t even use the toilet. There was always a bush to hide behind for that.

I wasn’t sure where I was headed. I only knew I was safer with the bears and moose than him. When he finally woke up, he’d notice me gone. And he’d get rid of any trace of me in the flame of a trash barrel. He might even find me later, if my luck ran out.

But he wasn’t going to pretend I was never there. Everyone who knew me knew my favorite kerchief. I was wearing it when he kidnapped me and brought me to this awful motel in the middle of nowhere. And I’d prove he kidnapped me, whether he caught up to me or not. I tied my favorite kerchief around a wooden post, part of the motel fence by the road.

I was there. I was there. I was there. 

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190 words

Inspiration: First Bastion's motel is wonderful but strikes me as something to run away from.

Word Count: 264
Hours Spent: 2
Software Used: Poser 13