Counting the Miles

Alone

ALONE

I first word that comes to mind is betrayal. Betrayal from John and Harper. They set up this investigation; they called the policemen to make sure that I didn’t murder my own parents.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to go and when I usually feel this way I would go to Davis’s house, but I can’t because he tried to kiss me. So I run, I run passed Harper, bumping into her shoulder hard enough for it to hurt me as well as her, out of the house down the drive way and out to the barn. I carefully climb the old untrustworthy steps to the top of the barn. I keep my gun there, which I got for my fifteenth birthday. It used to belong to John, but he stopped using it. It’s small and can be easily hidden. I stick it in the waistband of my jeans and lift the plank to see my extra clothes and money that I secretly took from the bakery just incase anything happened and I would have to run. I also have a backpack that I used for backpacking trips that I used to go on with John. The money I took is enough for me for at most a week. It will never be enough for me nevertheless a horse.

I will have to take Montoya, I think to myself, but if I do then they are gonna know that I ran. I hate thinking about things, like running away from the only home and only people I’ve ever known. It hurts, like I’m stabbing them in the back one by one, but I know I have to and I know that I have to do it alone. Just as I am tacking up Montoya I hear the loud barn door creek open. I run into the nearest stall and peek over the edge of the door to see Davis. I can’t stand to look at his face so I turn away.

“Charlotte,” he says quietly. The way he says my name kills me from the inside I close my eyes and press my lips together so I down make a sound, “I know you’re here, please come out.”

I stare over the door at him; he’s just standing there stroking Montoya’s face as though he knows I’m going to come out of my hiding spot. I fall for it. I can’t run away from my best friend, or my only friend.

“There you are,” he says in a sigh of relief, “I was worried…” he trails off, “What’s wrong?”

I hadn’t notice, but I was frowning and tears were still on my face.

“Oh, umm,” I say wiping away the tears, “Harper and John called the police for an investigation of my room.” More tears come and I swallow down, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat.

“Oh my gosh, Charlotte…I’m so sorry,” he say moving closer. I back way and his face seems hurt by it.

“It’s fine, I just…I just want to say…you’ve been a really amazing friend to—”

“NO! No,” he yells grabbing my arms hard. He lets go quickly noticing that I flinched at his strength and says, “You are not leaving!”

“What other option do I have, Davis? Stay here and rot in jail?

“The police still haven’t found any other evidence?” He asks quieting down his voice and dropping his head to the ground.

“No, I’ve been framed. I’ve been framed really well. And I have to find out whoever did this.

“Oh, well what are you gonna do about it?”

“I’m leaving, Davis. I can’t be in my own home anymore. I have to go. I’m sorry,” I say moving in to hug him, but he backs away.

“Wait. Just wait for five minutes, I have something for you.”

“Ok,” I say and continued to tack up Montoya.

It feels like two seconds by the time he comes back. Breathing heavy, he pulls out a stack of money. They are all one hundred dollar bills. I don’t know what to say; I need the money, but I know he took it from his parents, he would get in huge trouble; I know I can get some money from somewhere.

“I don’t need this, I have enough already,” I lie. He looks up at me and, ignoring my comment, he places the money in my hands.

“I’m not taking no for an answer…and this.” He pulls out a beautiful necklace. It has gorgeous diamonds in the shape of a cross. “I saw you looking at it the other month with Harper. I had gotten it to give to you on your birthday, but everything happened and I just couldn’t find the right time. So…here you go.” He undoes the hook and places it gently around my neck. He is so close that I can feel his warm breath on my back and it give me shivers down my spine.

“Thanks,” I say smiling up at him, “I’ll miss you.” I throw my arms around his neck and he raps his arms tightly around my waist. I feel a tear roll down my cheek I quickly wipe it away so he doesn’t see and he lets go.

“You can’t go alone,” he says.

“Well, you’re not coming. I don’t even know where I’m going.

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” he says again.