{words} -conversations happening inside Marie's head.
"Where to, miss?" The lady at the counter asks.
Good question. Can't go to Canada, I don't have a passport to cross the border. Can't stay here… "Maine, please"
"Here you are" She hands me a ticket, "Enjoy your trip" all I can do is nod.
{Maine, what a stupid place to go} I quickly spin around looking for the voice, but everyone around is paying attention to their own lives.
"Are you okay?" The lady asks me, only then did I realize I'm still standing at the counter.
"Yeah. Pesky bug flyin around. Have a nice day!" I say with an overly fake smile.
I continue to walk towards the waiting area hoping to write off the weird voice as a product of my overly stressed mind. No such luck.
{I mean really. First Canada, now there? Isn't it kinda cold?} Isn't it kinda cold…
{David?} I ask. It's official. I'm crazy.
{Yes?} The voice replies in a careless matter. As if the voice in my head thought it was no big deal that we are having this whole conversation in my head. {It's your mutation} It helpfully supplies.
{How do you know that? How do you know so much about my mutation when I don't even know about my mutation?} I ask the voice in my mind as I look around at the other people waiting for the bus. The guy across the bench is staring at me.
{It's your facial expressions} David tells me. {Did you have me in your head before we kissed?}
{No…} I answer, trying to rein in whatever expression is on my face.
{Then it must be a side effect of that kiss. As far as your face is concerned, treat this conversation like you are reading it from a book. If you can't hold your face then look up and take a deep breath}
{Where did you learn that?}
{It was my uncle's advice when he was teaching me to play poker} As soon as I heard the voice, the back of my brain started to tickle. Images started flashing of an old guy and cards. Don't play every hand.
{I think I just taught you how to play cards…}
{You really think that just because you know how, that now I know how? Without anyone teaching me…}
{You'll have to test it. I also know how to do beginner level calculus and how to properly shoot a gun} More images flash up. First, a collection of pages of math homework. Then, a memory. It's early in the morning and he's outside with his dad. The older man hands him a rifle, showing him how to aim and pull the trigger. Another memory, years later, he's out hanging with some friends. He's shooting old cans with the same rifle.
I was caught up in the happiness of the memory, completely unprepared for reality to wash in. Do I even know if David is okay? Did I take that away from him? Did I kill him?
"All boarding, bus 342"
{That's you buttercup} The voice in my head helpfully supplies.
I shuffle on to the bus taking a seat on the very last row.
I watch with a sudden since of melancholy as a mother helps her two kids into the seat with her.
"Aint ya a little young to be out on your own?" I burly man asks.
"Probably" I mutter. To my surprise he laughs and takes the seat on the other side of the bus, but still on my row.
"Let me guess, a runaway?" He asks. Still chuckling.
"It wasn't so much as a run, as it was a kick"
"Ahh" He says with a nod of his head. "Parent's doing?"
"Yeah. They disagreed with my…" {Don't out yourself} "lifestyle" I finish with a shrug.
{Don't you ever shut up?} I ask the voice.
{If you really wanted me to. But you don't. Just consider me the voice of reason}
{Whatever}
"So, whats your plan now?" He asks.
"I've got no plan. I don't even have an idea of what I'm doing"
"My advice?"
"Sure"
"First off, don't worry about things you can't change. If you can change them, then do it and stop worrying-"
"So either way, worrying is pointless?" I ask with a laugh.
"Well if it doesn't benefit you, then it's useless. What good does worrying do?"
I know it was a rhetorical question but I still answer, "Nothing"
"Exactly. You do what you gotta do. You do what you can do. Let the rest go. Next thing, what have you always dreamed of doing with your life?"
"Isn't that irrelevant now? I mean I barely have a high school education, no money, no home, no identification to get any sort of job"
"Excuses, excuses. If you want something, fight for it. Rules and legalities of life are just for show. If you want to win, fight dirty and fight hard."
"Alright, I'll keep that in mind. I don't know what I wanted to do when it comes to making a life. But I do know that I always wanted to travel. I've never been anywhere but I always dreamed of long road trips out in the country, you know?"
He chuckles, "You got a wolf's heart, girl"
"Yeah? What's that suppose to mean?"
"You want to run free. You don't want rules. You don't want lines in the sand. You don't want to be confined, whether it's tangible or not. You're a runner, and now you can run free. You just need to learn how to be smart with it"
"How do you even learn something like that?"
"You just gotta do it. It aint something someone can tell ya. You got to figure it out for yourself" He pauses for a second, I guess to see if I had something to say. I didn't so he kept going. "You got to figure out what you are comfortable in doing. The fundamentals are somewhere to stay safe while you sleep, something to eat, and something to keep you from going crazy. Those are going to become your biggest priorities. How you get each one is what you have to figure out. Living on the street is going to be hard kid. You gotta grow up fast and play things smart" He tells me.
Then a question pops into my head. This particular question never even entered my mind until now. Does that make me naive? Is it a sign of how completely unprepared I am for this world? This one question has the power to shatter my world if I let it linger in my head, so instead, I let it out, "And if I don't?"
"You will kid. You got fight in you. I aint saying it will be easy but I'm saying if you want it enough you'll figure out how to adapt, how to learn, how to survive. Because you will reach a point where it will be your only option.
"How do you know that?" I ask.
"I lived a long life" He says almost silently.
We stop talking and I go back to staring out the window watching the trees go by.