On the Run

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Kinton Nyr

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He sat in the passenger seat of the small silver car. It was nothing grand, in fact it was quite a plain and dull vehicle, but that only worked to help him remain incognito. He pulled out a 10 pack of Richmond Menthols and removed one of the remaining seven cigarettes from the carton. Placing the butt between his teeth, he pulled a red lighter from his hoodie's pocket and flicked the edge. A small red flame rose into the air and he leaned forwards so that the lighter's flame engulfed the cigarette's end. He then took a deep puff before blowing out the smoke into the air. Then, he wound down the window and leaned out, waving his hand to get the smoke out the vehicle. His eyes had black bags beneath them, a combination of his stress following Amy's death two nights ago and his complete lack of sleep. He felt the weight of his heavily packed rucksack in his lap, satisfied that he had everything he would possibly need - a change of clothes, survival gear and enough food to last him a month, considering he rationed it appropriately.

"Does anyone have a plan?" Damien
asked, lowering his beige hood to his side.
 

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The blonde had his head resting against the car window. Not that he was really blonde. More of a blue. But he was naturally blonde, and there was a section of hair left it's natural colour. He was as close to sleep as he was going to get. The only reason he was out of a police cell was because they couldn't hold him for more than forty eight hours without charges being pressed. He hadn't slept the night after he'd found out about Amy's death, due to the sobs that crippled him with every few breaths. The night before, he just hadn't been able to stop thinking. Whereas now, he just wanted to sleep. He was in the first set of fresh clothes since he'd been brought in for questioning, a pair of black jeans that he had to wear with a black studded belt due to being a fraction too big, and a white printed shirt that also hung a tad loose on him. His dad had been started to ask questions about his weight loss, but Drew had just lost his appetite. Not in the sickness way, in the "I'm arguing with my girlfriend far too much and I just want to sleep for the next year" kind of way. The arguing had taken his toll on Drew for a while, and the stress had an effect on him.

The smell of menthol cigarettes forced him to surface, and he sat up, running a hand through his hair. He pulled on the leather jacket that formerly been lying on his lap and readjusted his posture. His backpack sat by his feet, having been hastily packed when he's been told that he needed to run for his own life.

"I dunno, man. Once the cops don't think I'm guilty and have done a runner. I don't need that shit on my back as well." He pressed a hand to his mouth as he yawned.
 
Alabaster walked along the sidewalk of an empty street. The rain poured onto his suit, but he didn't care how drenched he got. He flipped open his phone, (Alabaster has a flip phone because they look awesome) dialed a few numbers, and hit call. He leaned against the brick wall of an abandoned shop, waiting for the boy to pick up. After about 10 seconds, He heard the line go through. "Hello?" "Hi, this is Alabaster. Come pick me up, I'm at the corner of fourth and main." He heard a sigh on the other end. "Whatever you say, boss." He heard three beeps, signaling that Damien had hung up. Alabaster snapped the phone shut, and sighed. He sat down on the wet concrete, putting his head in his hands.
 
Damien nodded in agreement to Drew's point. He took another puff of his cigarette and then played with it in his hand for a while, before holding it outside the car window to keep the smoke out. The rain was pouring down lightly outside and the cold air allowed Damien to soothe his airways with just a small breath. He then turned around to face Drew, dropping his cigarette outside the car, and tried to give the devastated man a friendly smile, but his attempt was weak.

"I think it would be a good idea to..." Damien began, but he was cut off by the sound of his mobile ringing in his pocket. Answering the call, Damien placed the phone to his ear and spoke, "Hello?"

"Hi, this is Alabaster. Come and pick me up, I'm at the corner of fourth and main."

Damien grunted, clearly irritated by the commanding tone of the man on the other end of the line. It was strange to hear the man being refered to by his first name, for whenever Amy had spoken to Damien about the tutor, he had only been described as 'sir' or 'Mister Wright'. Since Amy's murder just a few weeks earlier, Damien did his best to introduce himself to all of those who had known Amy, and to his annoyance, one of them was Alabaster. Personally, he had no quarrel with Amy's tutor, but grief had a way about things. This was the first time in his life that he had lost somebody so close to him, and it had hit him like a ton of bricks. With his mind all over the place, he had pointed the finger at everybody and even jumped to the conclusion that Drew had sent his closest friend to her untimely everlasting sleep. It was only at her funeral, upon seeing Drew's own grief, that he asked him to stay with him for a while, but his landlord had refused the excuse of mourning as a valid reason of late rent payment and the two young men had found themselves on the streets. His first thought was to call Alabaster, hoping that he would sympathise with them and give them somewhere to stay for the time being. And now, here he was, being beckoned to pick Alabaster up from whatever street corner he had emerged from. He let out a sigh of exhaustion.

"Whatever you say, boss," he muttered, stressing the word 'boss' to show his strong disagreement towards Alabaster's attitude, before hanging up. He then turned to Drew and, closing his eyes for a few seconds before speaking, said, "Alabaster wants us to pick him up at fourth and main. If we go, hopefully he might get us something proper to eat. Should we?"
 
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Casey's short A lined hairdo was slightly more curvy then the usual pin straight way she had it. She put her elbows on her knee and leaned her face into the palm on her hands. Today she wore a very tight and shiny purple tank top with tight black skinny jeans. A small, but packed tightly, backpack sat in her lap between her body and her arms. She hadn't said a word to either boy, she sat thinking the entire time.

Finally she muttered a few words, muffled because her head still sat in the palm of her hands, "Food. I like food." Her stomache growled a bit at the idea of food. She hadn't eaten in awhile, she had gone on a diet before Amy died, a 600 calorie diet, but then Amy died and she went from 600 calories to 0 in a day.
 
Drew was just trying not to think too much as Damien turned around. Every time his mind was idle, he started thinking about that night. His own voice, demanding to know if she was cheating on him, and her yelling back at him and... He couldn't stop wondering that if he hadn't stormed out, if he would have stayed and tried to make things better... could he have saved her? And now the police thought he had done it and were just looking for that bit of evidence to nail him. And it wasn't just the police that suspected him. At the funeral, people had been looking at him and whispering. Mistaking his grief for guilt. Of course, the boyfriend with issues must be a murderer. They all thought his mother dying had screwed him up. He'd been a mess up long before that. Surprisingly enough, Damien, who he'd fought with on the night of Amy's murder, was the only one who appeared not to suspect him. He'd let Drew stay between questioning sessions- at least, until the landlord had thrown them both out.

He looked at Damien as he started to speak, but then his phone rang. It was Alabaster. Drew rolled his eyes as Damien replied testily and hung up. The other boy asked about food, and Drew shrugged. Casey seemed to be in favour of eating. "Whatever about food, decent coffee sounds amazing right now." He mused, smothering another yawn. He hadn't slept properly since his father had walked into his room, pale-faced. Drew had been half-dressed, planning on going over to Amy's to apologise. And now he was never going to get to say that. He bit his tongue, hoping the pain would keep him fixated on reality.
 
After hearing Casey and Drew's comments on what they should do, Damien sighed. It could never be that easy, could it? Casey made her desire for food clear but Drew wanted a coffee. Personally, he hadn't eaten in a while either, and his stomach was constantly reminding him about that fact. An idea spawned in Damien's mind, and he turned around again to look at Drew before turning his head and gazing at Casey.

"There's a Starbucks on the way to fourth and main," he began, as he took a deep sigh. "I have a little bit of spare change on me, I think it will be enough for a couple sandwiches and maybe a coffee too. But it's all I have."

He then paused, to give himself some time to think, before continuing, "After that, if you guys want, we can go to Alabaster's and see if he can put us up for a few nights. "
 
Casey had lifted her head now and put down her arms. Her head and eyes felt heavy so she relaxed her head back. Her heart pounded and she choked back some silent tears.

Casey was a suspect in the case, but she wasn't a big suspect. They, the police, wanted it to be someone close to her, but Casey couldn't imagine anyone doing something to Amy. Casey thought the worst of people all the time, but to think someone who knew her killed her? No.

Before Damien some Casey had brought her head back upright, just in time to meet his gaze. She let out a small laugh, almost like a breath, and said, "I have some money to. We can split the cost or something," Casey thought for a second more, "I think Alabaster's place is as good as any."
 
"That solves that problem then," Damien shrugged, while smiling softly at Casey.

Damien slid over and made himself comfortable in the driver's seat. Although his driving license was only a few months old, Damien had always been a confident driver. His father had taught him how to drive on empty lanes in the countryside when he was just thirteen, and he often showed off his new skill to Amy whenever she joined him on visits to his father's countryside villa every now and again. He remembered how when they were younger she would become afraid when he drove at high speeds, but as she grew older, she became more and more excited and thrilled by the prospects of racing past the fields and the farms at the top speed of his father's Aston Martin. Damien smiled to himself at the memory of Amy. He still couldn't come to terms with the idea that she was actually gone. Dead. He would never see her face again. Never see that smile.

He sighed to himself, before placing the ignition key in the slot, and then listening as the engine revved noisily.
 
"That sounds like a good idea. I think I've got a few dollars on me somewhere as well." Drew agreed. As Damien started the ignition, he laid his head against the window again and closed his eyes again. He was exhausted from just about everything. He could still remember his father at the door, pale and staring at his son. "Drew, the police want to talk to you." Drew had frowned and straightened up, pulling his t-shirt on over his head. He'd gone downstairs, where they'd told him what had happened. He'd never gone numb so fast. They'd brought him in for questioning almost straight away. The realisation hadn't fully set in until the detective had walked in to ask him a few questions. The brief surge of anger had only lasted long enough for him to throw away the chair he'd been sitting on at the implication that he killed her. Almost immediately afterwards, he'd sank to the floor, sobbing hysterically. They'd released him due to the fact that that at that point, they didn't have any evidence to keep him, and he was in no condition for questioning.

He hadn't slept for that week. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. Most nights had been spent curled up in a ball, blaming himself. One night, he'd even had a handful of pills in one hand, ready to swallow them. But another fit of sobbing had overtaken him, and he'd dropped them. He hadn't had the strength to pick them up. Now, he was just numb. If it was numbness or the crippling pain that kept hitting him like a tidal wave, he'd take the numbness every time. All he really felt was the anger at the cops for blaming him. But apparently, they had reason to think he'd kill her. Enough to keep bringing him in.

Even when he'd been in Damien's, he'd hardly slept. He'd go for walks in the middle of the night. He'd just keep thinking about her and wonder if it was all his fault. He'd keep reliving their fight every single night. All he had wanted was answers, but he'd just lost control. The subject of his past, of his previous conditions had come up,and he'd just gotten so angry and he'd yelled and screamed and... What if he'd kept his cool? Would she still be here? Would he? And was his lie a good enough sacrifice for hers?

After this long, pure and utter exhaustion kicked in. He did sometimes have nightmares at night, but could never wake himself up. He was just exhausted. Every time he closed his eyes, he was on the verge of sleep. And every morning, he felt like he hadn't slept a wink. He needed to sleep for several days straight, but something always woke him up.
 
Alabaster sat in silence, waiting for the group to pick him up. "Where the hell are they...?" He looked around to see if there was anything to keep him busy. Looking a few blocks down, he saw the main street Starbucks. Alabaster thought for a second before flipping his phone open.

*RING... RIIIIIING... RIIIIINNGGGG...* "Hello?" "Alabaster again. Change of plans. Meet me at the Starbucks. Coffee and food. I'm buying."
 
Ellie had been very distraught by the news of her sister's death. She had been given time off of work to come to terms with it, but she was no closer to moving on with her life now than when she first received the phonecall from her father. It had been quite a while since Ellie had seen Amy, which was bad enough in itself, but in the weeks leading up to Amy's death, she had been bugging Ellie to let her stay over. At the time, Ellie had just dismissed it and told her sister that she was too busy, but now, reading between the lines, Ellie thought that there might have been more to it. She knew that Amy and her parents hadn't been getting on too well, and her mother had been complaining about her new boyfriend - some guy with blue hair - so there could have been all sorts of reasons why Amy might have wanted to stay over.

It was too late for that, now. Ellie had lived in her current apartment for just over a year, and Amy had never stayed over even once, and now she would. The more she thought about it, the more that Ellie thought she had let her sister down. As if, maybe, by letting her stay over, Ellie might have been able to help her. She shook her head, no, there was nothing that she could have done. The police were treating it as a murder, not a suicide. Of course, if Amy had been staying over at Ellie's apartment then maybe she would still be alive...

Ellie sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with a well-used handkerchief. She was sat in a Starbucks about a block from her apartment, nursing a skinny latte that had gone cold a good half an hour ago. She wasn't interested in the coffee, but as long as she had something in front of her, the service staff would leave her alone and let her stay there. Right now, Ellie couldn't cope with being alone in her flat any more, so she was going to stay here until she got tired, or they kicked her out, and then she'd go back to her flat and try to sleep. It was the only time she could find any peace at the moment, but even then, it was only fleeting.
 
Damien put his phone back into his pocket for a second time. Neither Drew nor Casey had said much, if anything at all, in the seven minutes and thirty-six seconds that it took for him to drive to the Starbucks. It was better that way, Damien believed. It was a time for them all to think back on Amy's life and remember the good times, as well as the bad, yet he couldn't. Damien's head went blank, and all he could manage to do was to count every second it took for him to reach his destination. It distracted him. Thinking about Amy was too painful for him, regardless of whether the memories were positive or not, because he knew that she would never be there to share those memories with him. As he pulled up a block away from the Starbucks, he turned the engine off and undid his seatbelt.

"You can keep your money, guys," Damien told them, as he checked himself for his phone, keys and cigarettes. "Alabaster's paying."

Damien opened his car door and got out, taking a very deep breath as a light rain began to drizzle down around him. Damien stood at the front of the car, raising his hood over his head, while he waited for the others to hurry along.
 
Casey tossed her hair a bit and bit her lip to add more color. She wanted to look somewhat decent instead of a total train wreck. She blinked a few times, put her backpack on the car floor, and reached for the door handle.

Her short black leather ankle boots hit the ground first before she pulled her skinny body out of the car. She couldn't help but let out a small smile, Amy was the one who taught her how to look confident. From the brush up in the car from the way she carried herself out of the car, it was all Amy's work.


Casey shut her door gently then walked to the front of the car to stand by Damien. Without really thinking, Casey placed her hand gently on Damien's shoulder and said softly to him, "You know. It's funny. Amy always told me to spend more time with you. She told me I should be your friend instead of just association, you know?" She carefully pulled her hand off of Damien and stood up more straight, "It's sad that we are spending more time together because of the circumstance."

Casey ran her hand through her hair, the cold and drizzle rain wasn't good for her hair. A part of her wanted to just walk into Starbucks without waiting, but didn't want to add any more cold or harsh feelings into the group. Casey didn't know Damien or Drew as well as she should. She didn't know much about Damien and Drew's relationship, but at least they had gotten into a fight. That's more then Casey was to either one.

She blinked her eyes a few times in a row to hold back tears as she waited by Damien for Drew.
 
Saying nothing, Damien could only listen to Casey's words and sigh at the bitter irony. She was right. Of course, Damien knew Casey but they had only ever really exchanged the polite "hello" or "how are you". But he had heard stories about her through some of his mutual friends, and was warned that he shouldn't trust her. She was a liar, some said, while others told him that she was a bad influence on Amy. As Casey's hand rested on his shoulder, he looked away, embarrassed by how satisfying physical human contact felt. The last time he remembered having to touch somebody was at her funeral. Once Amy had been laid to rest in the earth, her father was the last to leave her graveside. The poor man had broken down on the ground. Damien could only recall how he held the man in his arms as he shook violently, and how his hair had greyed a considerably huge amount since Amy's life was taken. Casey moving her hand brought him back to reality and, as they stood in waiting, he turned his head towards her, gazing directly into her unaware eyes. He wondered to himself what could be so bad about this girl that his friends had encouraged him to avoid speaking to her? Hell, if she's good enough for Amy, that's good enough for me.
 
Drew opened his eyes and yawned as they pulled up outside Starbucks. He nodded as Damien told them Alabaster would pay, before climbing out of the car. Casey appeared to be fixing herself up a little, but Drew knew he looked like he hadn't slept in days and couldn't do a thing about it. He looked down at Casey. He'd never really spent that much time with Amy's friends. Sure, they'd been around Amy at the same time, but he hadn't exactly made any effort to get to know them.

"Let's head inside. I don't particularly want to have to sit in damp clothes for any length of time." He said, before heading in. He spotted Alabaster and headed over to him. "Hey." Again, he hadn't spent much time around him at all. All he knew was that he's been tutoring Amy and that they got along pretty well. Drew couldn't find any reason not to get along with him, but it would feel a little strange becoming friends with his girlfriend's mentor.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing a little. "I'll have a skinny cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso." Ever since his mother died, he'd always ordered skinny drinks. Even after he'd pulled out of his eating disorder, skinny was always what came to mind when ordering. He knew that in this situation, full fat probably would be better for him, but he didn't care. Something about full fat made him almost anxious. He was stuck in his ways when it came to coffee, and wasn't changing. Amy had always questioned it, and he'd snapped at her once or twice about it.
 
Ellie was still sat at the table, even though it was starting to get late. Most of the younger couples and groups of friends had now left, which meant that she fitted in a lot better with the other single patrons reading newspapers or studying tablets. She had been forced to buy a new drink, so as not to get "moved along" by the management, although the increasing number of empty tables meant she was less likely to be pressured to move on, but more likely to be pressured to throw more coins into their coffees by buying a muffin or something else that she didn't really want.

She didn't know what she wanted. Ever since Amy's death, she had been in a state of limbo; not working was proving difficult as the days seemed to drag on, but at the same time, she just couldn't bring herself to do it right now. At the same time that Ellie wanted to be left alone, away from all people, she also found herself struggling to be alone. At least here, in this coffee shop, she could find a happy (if, indeed, anything could be called happy at a time like this) medium of being around people, but not around anyone that she knew. In this city, no-one really cared for strangers, so no-one would think to ask if she was alright, and then she wouldn't have to put on a fake smile and say that everything was fine and she'd be alright to get on with her job.

All of which meant that, when she looked up from another cold cup of coffee to see three teenagers enter the room, she immediately wished she was back in her flat. There were two boys and a girl, and she knew that one of the boys and the girl were friends of her sister, whilst she couldn't get a good view of the second boy as he approached the counter. Ellie bowed her head and hoped that they wouldn't see her. The last thing she wanted now was to have to talk to her sister's friends about her sister. The thought if it made her stomach lurch and she found herself already on the verge of tears once more.
 
Damien reached the counter to hear a young dark-skinned woman ask for his order. He realised that Alabaster wasn't even here yet, and politely apologised to the woman. He then directed Drew and Casey towards an empty table at the back. His eyes caught sight of a girl, whose hair was covering her face, and he wondered to himself what she could possibly have to feel sad about. She probably just got dumped by her boyfriend. Damien silently cursed himself for the way he had thought that so maliciously, as if this girl's problems were meaningless, but in his mind, that was how he felt. It wasn't as if one of her closest friends or relatives had just been murdered in their own home, all alone, with nobody to hear her screams. It wasn't as if somebody who she had shared so many eventful memories since childhood with had just had the sparkle in her eyes extinguished as if she were a candle in the wind.

"Where's Alabaster?" he muttered to himself as he took a seat. "I need... we need food."
 
Casey followed the two boys inside, she held her head up high walking in with confidence. She wouldn't let anyone see her crack under the extreme emotions she felt. She only cried when she was by herself, never around anyone else. Amy's death wouldn't haunt her forever, Casey refused to let it.

A part of why she wanted to let the death not effect her every day life is because of the extreme guilt she had every minute for it. Casey knew she could drive herself crazy with all the things she could have done differently, from months before to the night of. But Casey didn't want to go crazy, so she had to ignore the death. She wanted to pretend she was just moving on to another group of friends, like she had done so many times in the past.

As Casey went with the boys to sit down she couldn't help but notice a particular face. She didn't expect to recognize anyone here, but one girl was to obvious, with her head hanging low.

At first Casey sat with Drew and Damien, expecting Alabaster to be here. But when Damien noted Alabaster's absence, Casey realized she had time to go make conversation with the one girl who looked noticeable.

Acting on a hunch, Casey stood up from the table and held out one finger to the boys, indicating 'one minute'. Casey made her way over to the girl to start a conversation.

"Excuse me, miss? Is this seat taken?" Instead of waiting politely for a response Casey took a seat at Ellie's table and continued to talk, "You know. It's a shame when a girls having a hard day, like you look like you're having, to be all alone. Sometimes it's not safe, in fact." Casey wasn't sure if this was the right girl, Amy's sister. But if it was, Casey knew she shouldn't be alone. With this murder investigation going on and a murderer out on the loose, being the sister of Amy had to make her not safe. Casey didn't really care for Ellie's safety, but she did care about what Amy would think if she knew Casey had seen her sister and not even stopped to talk to her, especially after a murder.

Amy was almost alive in Casey's mind, she could see her in her head giving her advice and commenting on every little thing she did. Just like she really did when she was alive. Casey never wanted to disappoint Amy, even the figment of her imagination Amy.
 
Alabaster walked toward the Starbucks, seeing that they had arrived already. "Well, if I had known they were going to be this close to the place, I would've started walking earlier..." Alabaster opened the door, trying to get inside quickly. "Hello, I'm sorry I took so long. What would you all like? I'm still buying, obviously." He spoke to them as he walked toward their table. Once he finished talking, they started listing their orders, eager to finally get some food. Alabaster nodded after everyone finished and hurried toward the woman at the register. (You can say your orders if you want.)
 
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