it's been too damn long robinhoodfinch
She's shutting the door before anybody can stop her, fingers pressing into the bathroom tiles. The ceramic is stained with water and rust, the light bulb flickering dangerously. Behind her, she can hear the other girl banging her fist on the door - Laura, Laila, something from L.
"Molly!" the girl screams, using the fake name Sydney gave her the previous day. They haven't even known each other twenty four hours and they're strangers in a motel room but - Sydney needed a ride; and L-something couldn't drive away from a homeless kid.
"Molly, goddammit, whatever your name is! You get the fuck out of that bathroom right now! NOW!" she screams. Behind her, Sydney can hear the television running - the news channel circulating a younger photo of her and the word MISSING scrolling across the top. Sydney Sage, last seen on October 24th, twenty-two months ago. She would now be seventeen years of age, five foot seven and weighing approximately -
"SYDNEY!" L-something shouts, finally using her real name. She might be too gullible and nice of heart, but even she can tell that under that black dyed hair is a blonde, golden eyed girl who is desperate to be moving.
Sydney does not respond. Instead she climbs on top of the toilet tank, reaching for the bathroom window. Testing how rattly it is, she takes a thin towel, wraps it around her elbow and smashes it into the glass.
"SYDNEY!" L-some - Lily. Lily is her name. Lily is shouting again, rattling the door knob. But Sydney is already out the window. The last thing she hears on the television is how her family is desperate for news about her.
All she can think is that she's out looking for family on her own.
****
"I’m sorry it has to be like this," he told her quietly. "I hope that one day you can forgive me."
There's the sound of glass shattering.
"I love you. I’ll always love you - but, I really, really hate you."
I love you.
I hate you.
Crunching glass. A sob.
She wakes up as she hears a twig snap. Immediately, her gasp is drowned by her own palm slapping over her mouth. She can see a glimpse of those blue eyes and blonde hair - right behind her eyelids - swimming behind a fog of confusion. Who is he? His name was right at the tip of her tongue. He means so much to her...but who is he? He reminds her of home; but not the home she left. Just home.
She presses her hand down harder over her mouth, muffling her deep breathing as she takes in her surroundings. She's sleeping in the hollow of an abandoned pipe, a fallen tree crossing above it. Dusk has fallen, the last of the blue sky bleeding into deep purple. A muted blue light saturates her surroundings. In the distance, she thinks she hears people.
And she knows. Lily told on her. She called them up.
If only Lily knew it wasn't the police or social services or her parents coming to pick her up. It was something a lot more sinister.
Sydney is quick to gather herself, quietly crawling out of the pipe, on her hands and knees. She pushes herself up and starts running deeper into the dense foliage of the forest, away from the edges of civilization. It's a stupid move according to anybody else. A girl, all alone, running away from the highway into unknown woods. She could get kidnapped, or hurt, or found by some axe murderer. She doesn't care. She'd rather die than be sent away.
She's learned well by now, running across the areas damp from rain, making no noise. She runs in zig zag patterns, in case anyone spots her and decides to whip out a gun. She doesn't know how long she runs for. Fifteen minutes? Half an hour? She doesn't know. Her watch stopped working ages ago and she's too scared to walk into a store - what if they watch the news too?
The body comes out of nowhere, flying towards her and bringing her crashing down onto the leaves and mud. She shrieks in surprise, immediately struggling to get free from the assailant.
"Aren't you tired of running, Sydney?" she hears the matter of fact voice whisper. She doesn't respond. Instead, she snaps her head backwards, feeling her skull smash into the guy's nose. He grunts in surprise, as she rolls them over, turning around and punching him in the jaw. Then she gets up before his shock wears off and starts running again.
The burst of adrenaline pushes her harder, and she takes a sharp turn to the right, knowing she'll eventually reach the road again. Some road. Any road. She needs to snag a ride faster than her feet.
Behind her, she can hear gunshots being fired and a cold weight settles inside her chest. Another burst of adrenaline has her pushing herself forward, as a branch next to her splinters into pieces.
"Careful! We don't want to kill her!" someone shouts in the distance.
"You can't run forever, Sydney!" someone else shouts.
Watch me, she thinks.
The next bullet hits the ground next to her feet, and she stumbles for a second - a stumble that stops her long enough for the third bullet to skim past her arm.
Pain fires across her right side, and she cries out, clutching it with the other hand. But she can't stop. She'll die if she stops. So, she keeps running, faster and faster until she sees the trees starting to turn sparse and in the distance, the gravel of a road can be seen.
By now, it's pitch dark and she knows she's put enough distance between herself and the Alchemists to try and get a ride. She has to move fast. The pain is becoming harsher with every passing second; throbbing and crawling across her body. Blood is dripping through her fingers, staining her nails red.
She sees headlights as a truck makes a turn. Waving her uninjured arm, she shouts.
"STOP! STOP, PLEASE!"
The truck slows down but then quickly speeds up once the driver sees her. She sees him shake his head and flip her off. Anger bubbles in the pit of her stomach and she stumbles into the middle of the road, screaming after him.
"ASSHOLE!" she shouts, knowing he can't hear her. There's a loud honk and a sharp screech behind her. Sydney whips around, gasping in pain, her other hand coming up to shield her eyes from the headlights' glare. She can tell she's a sight to see - matted hair with leaves, blood and a gunshot wound, gasping breath, muddy skin. No wonder nobody stops for her. She looks like trouble. But she gives this driver no choice, standing and shouting in the middle of the road like that.
She puts her hand down, squinting a little and mouthing help. He turns the headlights off. The moment she catches sight of the driver, all the adrenaline, the nausea, the worry and even the pain momentarily leave her. Because she knows those eyes. She was dreaming about them not hours ago.
She stumbles towards the car, and he opens the door before she has to beg.
And then they're standing in front of each other, him taller, her looking like devastation. She can't tell the expression on his face...what it means. Shock? Confusion? Anger? Worry? She doesn't know. She doesn't know, but she knows him.
"Marcus."
His name comes to her so naturally it's as if she never forgot it, never struggled with it. As if it's always been there in her throat, waiting to be uttered. Her eyes close briefly before she mumbles.
"I need help."
"Get in."
"They're not far behind and I need to -"
"I know. Get in."
"You know? Of course, you know, you -"
"Sydney. Get in."
So, she does. The adrenaline is gone now and all she can register is the pain in her arm. She leans back into the seats as he drives away. But even though she's finally left the Alchemists behind, she can't help but wonder what happens now. She knows she's getting blood on the upholstery but she doesn't care.
Silence hangs between them like death.
"How did you find me? What happened?" he demands, looking at her again and again. It seems like he wouldn't look away if he didn't have to also keep an eye on the road.
"I don't know. All I know is I found you. I had to find you. I've been searching for so long - I don't know why I had to find you - I don't know who you are. But I found you, Marcus."
"What are you talking about? Sydney, it's me. Marcus."
His voice shakes a little at that, as if she's playing games. She doesn't respond. The seats seem so comfortable, and the pain is making her woozy.
"Sydney? Hey...you're going to be okay. You have to tell me everything but - "
She doesn't hear the rest of his sentence. The exhaustion and blood loss is making her fall asleep, so she mutters.
"I know I'll be okay. I've got you now."
