The misfits

Epilogue

Anya

Asya never met her sister again.

Or she did.

After countless of spent nights and used days, Anya had found a new family. They had stickled together, somehow, the four of them. Separate, yet still tied up. They never quite recovered from those wild days, not because they couldn't, but because they didn't want to. Alisan spoke more, while Brian babbled less. Evelyn changed her name to Eve, as a sign that some things are better left behind. She never fully finished her PhD, nor her masters, yet the road didn't require any of that. The old map got replaced by a new and much more modern version, that covered even the smallest of the paper towns they found themselves in. Brian changed even more names, going as far back as calling himself Tobias. They traveled through America and beyond, choosing to live with the wind and rise with the morning birds. Alisan swears on the fact that the scariest thing he has seen is Imogene, but there is always something else to swear on. Asya swears on her sister, and so does Brian. Maybe if you thing hard enough for something or someone, it comes true. That's what Asya thought at least:

Going back to Utah was not the best plan when it came to the heat and humidity of the place, but Asya didn't mind. The summer had caught them red handed, with no location nor a thought in mind. When it came to Eve herself, she was too lost in her little map, draping her body around Asya's. She didn't mind. Sometimes she imagined her own sister longing for her, love and touch starved, and Eve wasn't more than a mere image holder. The sun shined over their eyes, the sunlight hour gleaming over Alisan's tanned skin as he napped in the front seat, while Brian covered his screen and tried to stop the aggravating light from burning his eyes. On the next stop, Brian let them all have a rest, leisurely reminding them to not get lost. Asya lost count of the times each of them had lost in a city, or hundreds of them. She never admitted, but the only person she truly lost was her sister. Dragging her legs inside the bar, the tingling of the small tinker let out a queer sound. The bar was almost empty, except for an old couple who had taken the furthest tables and a man who served the many drinks. She seated herself on the counter, grapping one of the strawberry jam sandwiches from the table and munching on it, clear disgust on her face. Inside the bar a young woman appeared, setting quite close to Asya.

- I absolutely loath strawberry jam sandwiches. I don't think I have ever liked them - she muttered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else.

- You never have.

Asya never met her sister again. But Anya did.

PS: Thank you so much for everyone who read this story and enjoyed it till the end! I will probably publish more works in the future, at least I  wish, but this wouldn't be possible without all the encouragement I've gotten on this work. Thank you so much everyone, and I hope you enjoyed this piece of myself.