By Kelandra Surisha
Chapter Two – Running RaggedPan silently stroked her hair back and into a pony tale, keeping it untidily away from her face. She grimaced as she stared at her reflection in the river, face stricken with grief, sorrow, and worry, her face stricken with tears.
She had tried her best to be one at her little piece of heaven. There she had the beautiful calm waters of her own protected river, buried away from the naked eye. She had the toppling waters from the cliffs above and the beautiful scent of wild pines surrounding her and caressing her insides. But even all of this, beautiful and undisturbed by humans was not enough to calm her restless, worried soul.
She found it relaxing there, so relaxing that she often drifted off into soft slumber, only to awaken an hour later to the same nightmare, the same dreaded nightmare.
Running away to here wasn't going to solve anything. She must be farther away, away from her family, her friends, her love, and away from her fears of causing chaos and corruption for everything and everyone.
She couldn't carry the weight of millions of deaths upon her shoulders, not for a moment let alone a lifetime.
So she had run. She run as fast as she could from the place of peace, the soft place of the Earth's selected heaven, her safest haven.
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A soft cold feeling surged through Pan as she pushed the water over her dirty face. She leaned over the sink staring angrily at the drain plug cursing at it for no apparent reason. She wiped her face quickly and glanced up into the mirror at the wicked reflection.
Pan only saw, as she looked into the mirror, a weak wicked person. She was dirty and ragged, smelling of sweat and beer. Pan felt her disgrace as she stared into her dark cold eyes, afraid of what she had become. What would everyone think of her now?
Pan turned sharply to go to bed, catching her locket and necklace on the hard, cold, metal faucet slitting her throat lightly, leaving a small bleeding gash. She cursed at the stupid faucet and held a cloth to her neck to stop the bleeding. Luckily it was only a small gash.
"Damn," she cursed kicking her foot against the post that held up the sink, denting it slightly before kicking off her shoes and heading back to her dank stained bed.
She relaxed lazily on the bed listening to the soft sounds of the people in the other rooms around her. As offal a motel as this was it was cheap. She had to save every penny for her journey to get away.
She could hear a soft voice on the radio playing a soft country song. She could hear the words fill her in the deepest cavities of her being and emanate into her soul.
Love lift me away from here,
I don't want to feel alone anymore
Keep me safe, your arms I'll be in tonight
Take me home, away from the loneliness insidePan bit her lip strongly, closing her eyes, trying profusely to block out the sound. What did the singer know of pain? What did she know of torment?
How she longed to call out again, reach for the hand the searched for her touch.
Whisper sweetly, I miss you all the more I don't want to without you anymoreI feel numb without your touch
I feel cold without my heart
Trunks…she found herself whisper sweetly his name as though the wind that whipped over her face through the small crack in the window would carry her voice to him. How she wanted to go home again, see her father, feel her mother, kiss her lover, talk to her friends. It had been three months, three months without a phone call or a letter to say she'd be okay. She hadn't wanted a thing.
Not until now.
As she glanced over at the bedside digital alarm/radio and emitted the softest song that seemed to ache at ever crevasse of her soul, tare her closer to the phone, she reached over and shut it off, pushing her head back onto the pillows.
She couldn't, no matter what the song said.
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The next morning Pan awoke and packed her bag, leaving nothing behind her but the dusty old motel room and the scourging of the mice that had made themselves holes in the walls and floor panels.
Pan slowly slinked towards the exit of the motel, which was through the dusty dark bar that she had spent most of the evening in the night before. She ran quickly through the dusky bar trying hard to reach the exit before anyone saw her leave. She had almost made it to the exit when a sharp hand gripped her wrist and held her back.
"Ya travlin' by yaself missy?" a strange voice asked. Pan turned her head to face the man behind her; he was a small man, an American it seemed by his thick southern accent. He had dark skin with short black curly hair that seemed to end in no place in particular an in a very uneven manor. He wore a slinky brown hat, many sizes too big for him with on over sized brown overcoat, which were too many sizes too large.
"I ask if ya travelin' by ya lonesome?" he said sharply glaring at young Pan.
The old man's breath stunk of beer and cigarettes. She held her breath trying not to smell the horrid scent. By the scent of his breath and the mistakes in his grammar and speech she could tell he was drunk, probably been drunk for almost the whole night.
But even though being drunk his eyes shone with light and wisdom to fit his many years.
"Ya."
"Whatcha doin' travelin' all by yaself?"
"Nothing." She answered coolly trying to pull her wrist away.
"Nottins a drag kid He responded, "Iye can see by yar eyes that ya have many a worry. You shoudn have em. Dun worry so much." Pan felt the grip on her wrist loosening and she pulled again. "Next time ya round here drop by and listen to one of my sermons on Sundays. But next time don't ya come on ya lonesome. Ya hear?" he smiled. "Iye can tell by yar eyes ya ain't gonna. Ya tink Iye'm some drunken old priest who doesn't know what Iye'm talkin' about, but girl Iye can tell ya Iye do. Doin' nuttin' by ya lonesome is a drag. At least do nuttin' with suuumone."
Pan felt a soft warmth glow from that man.
"Thank-you." She said kindly to the old man's words and voice that seemed to stumble and drag in all the wrong places and focus on all the wrong syllables.
"Ya welcome."
Pan pulled her wrist away and began to walk towards the exit again, flicking her room key at the desk.
"Remember what Iye said kid!" came the voice of the old priest.
Her smile faded and she didn't say a thing to the old man as she exited the hotel. Finally she spoke, again to herself as she headed towards her old green station wagon rental car. "It's for people like you I'm doing this. I haven't chosen my destiny, it chose me." She turned and gazed back at the old motel and pushed her bag into the old rental car and pushed herself in along with it and slowly driving away. "No destiny didn't choose it, my heart did. If I didn't care so damn much!" she hit her hand hard against the dashboard careful not to break anything. "I shouldn't care about this all! Damn my heart! Damn my heart for loving Trunks so much that I would give it all up! Damn it!" she felt hot tears roll down her cheeks and she whipped them away quickly concentrating on the road once more.
Pan knew that she had once had a choice. She had a choice to ignore the powerful dreams and wait for them to go away, or take them seriously and leave. She knew either way would be a sin.A sin if she stayed and put everyone in danger, but a sin if she left and destroyed the heart of Trunks, the one whom she thought, or at least hoped had loved her, destroying the hearts of her parents, destroying the hearts of her friends, destroying her own heart as well. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't justify either choice.
Pan raced over her decision in her mind trying to figure out if it had been the right thing to do. Had it or had it not?
She would have destroyed the lives of billions, but saved her own by staying with her love, or save the lives of many and leaving the heart of her love.
She knew the decision was hard, but she knew from the very beginning what she had to do.
Trunks' heart would heal in time and hers would always remain the same, a broken piece of its former glory…but at least…at least she had his future in tact.
So she turned her back on love.
Pan relaxed lightly back in her seat as she felt herself go weak. She pulled over quickly at the first rest stop she could find and began to weep for the first time since she had left Trunks in the middle of the night those fateful months ago. She had left it all behind for a stupid dream. A stupid nightmare!
It took an hour for her to cry all of her tears away, all of the tears that had been waiting to be unleashed since the beginning of her journey.
Pan listened to the soft sniffles and the low crying moans coming from her and she cursed herself aloud for being so selfish. "GOD PAN! YOU'VE SAVED THEM ALL! STOP BEING LIKE THIS!" she snapped angrily. She turned the ignition quickly without another word and headed out once again.
But still the hours of hostility driving on the highway mumbling things to herself couldn't stop her from thinking that that was the last chance she would ever have, and that some how it was the wrong thing to do. But her heart betrayed her again, her damn compassionate heart.
Pan finally relaxed once again and stared up at the dark midnight sky for a moment and then back onto the road as she gazed upon the next neon lights of another cheap motel. She'd been driving for hours and she needed to stop.
"I'm sorry Trunks," she said silently as she pulled into the parking lot, off the highway for another night. "This isn't Eden I've pulled into,"
End of Chapter 2