𝐌𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

41 - A Dive Into the Past

~𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒔, 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆—𝑰'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 — 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒘𝒇𝒖𝒍, 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌? 𝑻𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒔, 𝒕𝒐...𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕. 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒚 𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓? 𝑰 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏, 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕? 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃 𝒊𝒇 𝒘𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆, 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒎𝒆.~

~Amelia

****
Thirty five years ago

"Blast it all!" she cursed under her breath as a trailer passing by splashed rainy water on her. Dark splotches of cold water dotted her attire of a blue long sleeve, black jean skirt and leggings. She really should have thought things through before she ran away.

She didn't take in the fact they were in rainy season and, as a matter of fact, the rain took its job quite well and decided to fall whenever it got the chance. She heard thunder rumbling in the distance and hugged herself.

Come on!

Instantly, she scanned her surroundings for somewhere she could lay for the night. Dark empty shops greeted her with littered streets. A few people passed by with suitcases, their steps brisk, probably hoping to catch the last 9:00 train before they got drenched.

A train she just alighted—safely, thank goodness— half an hour ago. She was happy the feminist movement was already well underway. If not it could have been, who knows, scandalous or something, if she was seen boarding a train alone. She did get a few stares, but nothing diabolical. Anyway, she had ducked her head and wished she worn her hood.

Sighing, she moved to seat on a platform made of cement in front of a closed shop and dumped her duffel bag next to her. It seemed fine for the night. It had been a week since she left that dreary house and the people she thought were family. It was awful finding where to sleep, or stay, or what to even eat at first. Money wasn't the problem, not at all.

But it wasn't until coming out she realized the way they lived at home was so different from the way people lived outside. Extremely different. Not to mention she was scared that someone was going to recognize her and tell her brother or father. Hence, she had taken the fastest train out of her neighborhood and just kept going, pausing to sleep where she could which was an hotel— allbeit not so high-class, but an hotel nonetheless— of course.

However, her run away cash was fast reducing so she had to stop. Unless she found a miracle in this district, she was going to turn into a beggar soon. The thought itself made her sick. She would rather die—No, she thought, she couldn't do that either.

Her shoulders drooped as she exhaled loudly. "Oh, Blas—"Something clattered behind her, effectively cutting her short. Without thinking it through, she jumped and turned, her eyes searching through the darkness that shrouded a certain part of the front of the shop. "Who is there?"