The drops of blood marked the cold, white snow, forming the kind of trail that could be followed. The snow fell from the sky, making the road trip to Detroit a little more dangerous than one would expect. Fifteen year old Drew had begged her parents to come on this partial tour. Normally she was only allowed to leave during the summer and come back before school started, wait a year and then go back on tour. Obviously her parents didn’t know that the time spent at home wasn’t safe either. She was watched every moment of everyday until she returned to the cult. Because her parents had some sort of parental protectiveness over Drew, Icxna knew they couldn’t keep her like they kept some of the other girls. At this stage of the cult, they were still careful.
Being a kid from Reno, she had never seen snow before. Not in the capacity that it was coming down, with snow already being on the ground as well. Things inside the bus were exciting as always. There was a group of musicians in the middle of the bus, in a smoking circle. The driver of the bus was not sober, in any way and Drew was in the back of the bus with the bassist and another girl, doing what they did best. Things were progressing, then everything was crashing on top of Drew and the other female. She heard glass in the front of the bus shatter, and she looked at the two people she had just been fucking. “Drew go check on everyone! I’ll take care of him.” The girl said, grabbing a shirt, blotting up blood from the corner of the bassist’s eye.
Drew grabbed a fur coat, and put it over her naked figure before walking out of the bunking area. She watched the ground as there were broken bottles and dirty needles. She asked the people in the smoke circle if they were okay, once they all confirmed, she walked to the front of the bus where she saw the broken windshield.The driver was gone. She opened the door to the bus and stepped onto the cold, snowy ground and walked to the front of the bus. She couldn’t see a body but she saw a trail of blood. After composing herself, she ran back into the bus.
She couldn’t remember all that had happened that night, she remembered jumping into the driver’s seat, speeding off from the crime scene. She found a shady mechanic with a junk yard behind the building, and with the cash for groceries and drugs, they got a new windshield and the boys in the band and their manager took turns driving for the rest of the tour. No one said anything about the man that was dead, and it was a secret that Drew would probably keep until the day she died, unless someone outed her and the band she traveled with.
