Afraid of Me, Myself, & I (Part 3)
(See below for the links to the first two parts and catch up on their adventures)
It had been a month and still no sign of Donovan. Jason was starting to get restless, but I was enjoying trying to get back to a normal life. Well, as normal as I could remember. According to Jason, this was my third life. In a sense that my second life was me still technically alive, just reprogrammed. I don’t remember that part. All I remember is going to the school dance with Jason as high school sweethearts, kissing under the tacky disco ball our committee put up for kicks and giggles. After high school, well, that is the blur.
Jason had left the trailer for the day to find some work. We had been moving from small town to town, sniffing out Donovan, but trying to stay under the radar. Especially since the newspaper in Boston said I died and my family had a memorial service for me.
For now, we settled in a town called Maysville, Nebraska that had an abandoned trailer park. We decided it would be safe to stay here a little longer since our funds were pretty much depleted.
I needed a walk and we needed some food, so I grabbed my black zip up hoodie and the rest of the cash we had. Flipping up my hood, I walked through the leaves falling from the trees. I smiled, remembering glimpses of jumping into piles of leaves as my dad tossed more on top of me. The memory of what he looked like alluded me.
I shook my head as I passed some teens trying to make an ollie on their skateboards. I finally came to the old mom and pop store, ringing the bell that hangs over the door when I entered. The cashier looked up to greet me, but her face fell as she took in my facial features under my hood. I waved, but the blood drained from her face. Before I took a step in she had a shotgun pulled out from beneath the counter pointed right at me. My eyes went wide in panic and the door behind me opened. A frantic Jason stopped right beside me and raised his hands up when he realized the gun pointing at me.
“What is going on?” I asked him mentally.
He replied out loud, “Apparently, you have been here before.”
I glanced over at a picture behind the girl. It was her and a man with balding hair and a scar on his left eyebrow. My brain sparked as an image of this man on the floor, bloodied with a knife sticking out of his chest flashed across my eyes.
“I…killed someone here…” I mentally whispered to him, but it must have gone to the girl and the guests that were in the store, who know saw the gun pointed at me because I could now hear the fear. My carefully constructed mental barrier broke.
“Jason, they are afraid of me,” I mentally said to him, “I don’t blame them. I am afraid of myself too.”
Jason and I looked at each other, trying to figure out how we were going to get out of this one.
Links to Parts 1 & 2
This is the Tricky Part (Part 1)