M͓̽y͓̽ c͓̽o͓̽n͓̽v͓̽i͓̽c͓̽t͓̽ [B͓̽W͓̽W͓̽M͓̽]

32 - Birthday & Beginnings

+Brandy

The sound of water leaking unsettles my mood.

I haven't slept for twenty-four hours because truth be told, I don't think I deserve it. It feels selfish to sleep when my son is being held captive by a maniac. The thought of food makes me feel like throwing up and the images of Savannah's dead body does nothing to help.

My world feels like it's in shambles, everything is so out of place. I toss and turn on the queen-sized mattress that belongs to the cheap motel Yonnie checked us into. The sheets make my skin crawl, and so does the smell of cheap perfume and sex that lingers in the room. "I can't do this." I find myself mumbling, as I rip the sheets from my body and stand.

Being in this room made me quiver in disgust.

"Where are you going?" Yonnie groans from her sleep, switching sides to glance at me with heavy eyes. She slept on the other queen-sized mattress across from me.

"Nowhere, just upfront," I tell her, fixing my socks in the dark, so I could put on my boots. One by one I slide my feet into them and then tie the lace. "This room is giving me a headache. I..." I clear my throat, my nails digging into my bare thighs. "I need air, can't sleep."

She opens her eyes fully and sighs, flicking on the lamp with no top. Bright light fills the room, my eyes sting. "I get that... but it's dangerous to be out right now. Especially in this area, you know how people are." She says.

My head aims to the ceiling, my eyes looking at the crack in the roof where the water leaks from. The sound of it dropping into the small silver bucket makes me want to pull my hair out.

I think I'm going crazy.

"I know that Yonnie," I tell her, putting on the sweatshirt I stole from the donation bin outside. It smells like detergent and I was grateful for whoever donated it in the first place. The elastic shorts that I've got on makes the side of my thighs itch like I've been bit by something. "But, I need air." Placing the old black dodger's cap on my head, I grab my gun and stuff it in my waistband. Then put my blade in my boot. "Get some rest. I'm not gonna be out long."

Yonnie sighs and nods, knowing that there's nothing she can say that'll make me stay in. "Okay, just... just be careful."

My cheeks raise and I give her a faint reassuring smile, that never reaches my eyes. "I'm just walking around, I'll be discreet." With a final glance in her direction, I unlock the door and open it wide. Stepping out, I make sure to seize my trembling hands long enough to lock it up from the outside. When I'm finished, I turn and walk in whatever direction my legs lead me towards.

The air is cool and smells of several different things. I'm breathing it all in, yet I feel like I'm suffocating at the same time. It feels like a crushing weight on my chest, my lungs not strong enough to expand. There is a wetness that drips down my face and it takes me time to figure out I'm crying. "Crying isn't going to fix anything, dumbass!" I snap at myself.

Letting out a shaky breath I look ahead, noticing the check-in spot from earlier. Taking slow steps forward, I walk in the direction of it, remembering the sign that said, 'We Sell Liquor' upfront. The blue neon lights that read welcome, further my decision on pushing the glass door open and walking inside. It smells like microwaved pizza in here, the receptionist that sits behind the front desk looks like she'd rather anywhere but here. "What ya need?" She asks, turning from the small television screen to look at me. I push my hat further down, ignoring the sound of her super long nails tapping against the desk.

"You guys got any Guinness in stock?" I ask her, my voice low.

The woman looks at me with raised eyebrows but then moves towards the fridge on the side. "How many you want?"