There was something intrinsically wrong with the weather on this night.
It was cold for the first week in October. Since this was Virginia, cold was unpleasant.
Thankfully, she was warmly dressed and mostly prepared. Elena walked the not so short four miles into town where she called a taxi to the next town over. When the taxi left her, she completed her transaction at the ATM and walked another two miles before changing hats and adding a scarf. The next taxi came for her, and when it dropped her off she did her business, gathering ATM receipts after which she began the next two mile walk. Almost an hour later, Elena was grateful that this was the last taxi on her journey, well, for the moment at least.
Going further north simply elevated the, already unpleasant temperature, to fucking cold in her rating scale. Walking all that way in the frigid cold was, however, worth it. Not to mention that, in this case, it was essential to disguise her identity.
In the last taxi she changed her scarf and hat and put on platform boots. She had to learn to fool everyone from now on. It was essential to her survival. Her hair was coal black now, compliments to a bottle of temporary hair dye she picked up on a whim a year ago for Halloween and had never used. She thought about going blond instead, but after reflection, blond really would look terrible on her.
All of the taxi locations were carefully mapped out. Or as carefully as you could do when you decided to run away and have only a few hours in which to do so successfully. She now had secured a bundle of money. Elena had planned to only use her own bank's ATM's since they allowed her to get more out in each transaction. As she saw more machines, however, practicality won over. Money was money after all, sure it was less money, but there were more ATM's available, so that made it ok. It was, after all, the last time she would be able to use her bank card ever. Elena Gilbert was about to be just another statistic on teen runaways. Well, as far as she was concerned Elena Gilbert Died that day with her parent's and again a week later with her only brother.
Child services would be in for a surprise tomorrow when they arrived.
It would take at least an hour to rouse the sheriff so that he was awake enough to get access into the house. Another half hour would be needed to get the taxi information since she had paid for her travels by card.
The bank card she had used was now in a convenient fast food trash bin that had been in her route. No one was going to find it amidst the burgers and fries and assorted sludge that was your usual Mc. Donald's fare.
Her bus left in an hour. There was plenty of time, but she was exhausted. Walking through snow was difficult, even with the fear offering enough adrenaline to keeping her going.
Child Services would never find her.
I would like to thank my beta (T. J. Wise) for her kick-ass skills and patience with my writing (I'll get better!)