Chapter 2: Uncertainty
A/N: Honestly, I don't intend for this story to be longer than ten chapters so I don't really have the patience or desire to draw it out. The sexual things are going to begin pretty early in the story, by early I mean probably in the next chapter. Consider this the story of an inexperienced woman exploring her sexuality with an unhinged killer with sadistic tendencies. Hopefully I'm freed from the shackles of burnout and I can crank out these chapters back to back like I want. Also, I'm still working on the next chapter of In My Dreams so it'll be released sometime soon I hope.
Worry gnawed at your being.
An icy calm washed over you, quelling your panic for a brief moment and allowing you to think clearly for the first time. The ride back home felt very much like a blur. An unmemorable, strangely silent blur. You'd spent most of it in a sort of daze, gripping the steering wheel so tight that your hands had started to hurt.
Having not even remembered when you'd exited the vehicle, you'd ambled up the porch steps one by one. Once inside the house, you closed the front door as quietly as you could. Not wanting to make any noise and alert your already sleeping grandmother.
A shuttering, discontented sigh slipped from your lips, your mind in disarray.
What had you just done?
Had you just sold your soul away to the devil?
Much of the meeting came back to you in flashes and the scenes from the altercation in the restaurant played back in your mind repeatedly. One thing that firmly stood out was the feeling you got staring down the barrel of that terrifying shotgun.
At the end of the day, you did what had to be done and it couldn't be helped. You couldn't turn back the hands of time to change anything no matter how you wished it possible. It wasn't exactly a deal you could go back on.
He plainly told you that he killed for a living and you wholeheartedly believed him. From what you'd already witnessed, you had no reason not to. He was a murderer indeed. A murderer that surely would have killed you had you not made that bargain with him. You have to close your eyes at the terrifying thought. There wasn't a lick of doubt that the man would have gunned you down right there in the restaurant where you worked.
A striking sense of uneasiness took hold of you once you realized that you can't get those cold dead eyes out of your mind and a dull ache began to itself known in your chest. The weight of your own trepidation was enough to cave in your chest as it was and it felt like double the pressure.
An assortment of worrisome thoughts began to run through your head.
You'd be leaving this little town very soon and there was nothing you could do. Melancholy was a horrible emotion for anyone to experience and sadly you were no different. It twisted your sensitive heart in all sorts of terrible ways.
For the second time, you found yourself completely out of it, never able to pay attention to one thing for long. After a particularly restless night, you came to the diner for your shift and you found it difficult to continue on as if there was nothing wrong. The conversations your regular patrons tried to strike up completely evaded you. Your mind simply wouldn't allow you to focus on more than one thing at a time. Considering that this was to be your last day working in the diner - it was turning out to be more of a somber affair than a joyous one. And no one had knowledge of it except you.
Good god almighty.
How could you tell your patrons that they wouldn't see you for some unspecified time? What does one even do in your situation? Were you even supposed to exchange your goodbyes?
Even with your entire life ahead of you, you hadn't thought about possibly leaving the workplace you loved. You loved the smell of freshly prepared pancakes. You loved the smell of coffee brewing. You loved greeting people and sending them on their way with a smile. Having been a waitress since you were fourteen, you knew the ins and outs of it like the back of your hand.
Mr. Johnny was a man you respected and admired. Regardless of the odd circumstances that caused your departure, you're certain that he would understand. This wasn't exactly a situation you were familiar with. And with you leaving under mysterious circumstances, you couldn't outfight think of it as quitting suddenly. Giving the news face to face was common courtesy and ultimately the right way to go about it. All of your excuses as of late always seemed to be born entirely out of necessity rather than anything else.
By now, you'd been standing in front of the door going on five minutes, anxious and silently willing yourself to knock. Along with not having much in terms of an exit strategy, it was quite easily the most unpleasant task you ever had to carry out. Not to mention it brought forth unnecessary stress and a horde of unpleasant emotions you weren't dealing with at one time.
What do you tell him? How do you even go about explaining it?
Taking in a shaky breath of air, you gave three raps on the office door and awaited confirmation to enter, which was granted only a moment later.
The oversized reading bifocals that older people liked to wear never failed to make you giggle when you saw them. Mr. Johnny couldn't see a thing without them but he swore up and down that he didn't need them. Considering the bombshell you were about to drop on him, you rightly forced the laugh down. Now was not the time for silly thoughts and actions, it was a time for seriousness. Which was strange in itself since there's not many serious conversations you've had that inspire this much anxiety in you.
You came to stand in front of his desk, hands clasped together. "Sorry to interrupt Mr. Johnny but I wanted to talk with you about something really important."
He set aside the stack of papers and picked up his mug that was likely filled with that whiskey he liked to drink while he worked. Honestly, you didn't know how the man would take your announcement but it was something that needed to be done. You owed him that at least. You don't want to think about the consequences of not informing the man that you'd be leaving. You wouldn't have to worry about a job if you were dead.
He took the hat from his head and set it gently on the desk in a move that shocked you. You don't think there's ever been an instance where you've seen him without his cowboy hat.
"Sure thing. What can I help you with Sweet Pea?"
You smiled at the affectionate nickname he'd given you. It had been a staple over the years and you never got tired of hearing it. Just another thing you would miss when you leave.
"I'm preparing to leave in a short while." You mumbled.
"For your lunch break?" He looked over at the wall clock somewhere behind you. "It's a bit earlier than usual but I guess that's fine."
"No. I'm saying that I won't be at the restaurant for a while." You clarified.
"You ain't got a stomach bug do you? I heard it's been going around." He said, looking you over for any signs of sickness or outward ailment.
"No Mr. Johnny, I'm trying to say that I'll be leaving Frisco to travel."
There was thick silence following your words that stretched on for some time. Judging from the look on his face, the old man appeared very saddened by the news.
Over the years, Mr. Johnny proved himself to be a kind, just employer to you. The man had offered you a place to work without recompense, a place to learn and grow over the years. And yet, here you were telling him that you were about to leave on short notice with no real explanation. To him it had to feel like betrayal on some level.
"Oh I see…" He placed the mug he'd been drinking from down on the desk. "Well I'll be…I wasn't expecting to hear nothin like that." He said as he adjusted his hat, one of his many traits you'd come to recognize over the years.
"Mr. Johnny I'm so sorry about all this…"
"No no ain't no reason to apologize. Sometimes life takes you where it wants to. We ain't got no control over it. I know you young folks have to do what's on your heart. The way I see it is that you just land wherever the wind blows you. At least that's how I ended up with this place."
"I'm just old and downright miserable that I gotta find a replacement for my best waitress and I hope she's at least half as good as you." He chuckled.
"Wherever you land, I just hope it's someplace where the lord dwells. That way you'll be safe."
"I wanted to thank you for the opportunity. All of these years you helped me and gave me a place to work."
"It was no issue at all. I was happy to be of help."
A rueful smile touched your lips.
"Can I ask a favor of you Mr. Johnny? Can you please continue to look after my grandmother while I'm gone?"
"Of course I will."
"Thank you."
"Speaking of which…does she know you're leavin?" He asked, likely noting the look on your face. The way the question made you flinch must've given you away.
Your gaze dropped down the floor as you whispered, "No…I haven't told her yet."
Bushy gray eyebrows went up in surprise. "Don't you think you should tell her?"
"Yes. I'm planning to tell her tonight."
The question shouldn't have induced so much alarm and apprehension in you that it did. You'd already known that it was something that had to be done but with time rapidly winding down, you were forced to acknowledge the depth of what you had to do in such a short amount of time. Informing your grandmother was actually the biggest obstacle you had to face and it left you with a lot to think about.
What would you tell your grandmother and how would she take the news?
He nodded in understanding. "Well then…Should you ever come back. This job will be waiting for ya." He said assuredly.
"Thank you Mr. Johnny."
At the very least, that statement did bring you some solace. If you ever think about coming back, it was nice to know the job position was still open to you - if you actually return that is. As your fate was quite literally in the lord's hands now.
Even a plate containing some of your food sitting in front of you wasn't enough to inspire any courage or interest. Currently, you were sitting sedately in your chair at the dinner table right across from your grandmother. While you managed a few bites, you couldn't force yourself to eat normally so as not to attract suspicion.
"I figure we could make short work of them potatoes since you always did love em." Your grandmother commented.
You stifled a smile that almost couldn't manifest itself, instead a deep frown immediately took its place. There were several times during the day where you had to pull yourself together. Even after you'd practiced what you planned to say many times in your mind. The possibility that she would forbid you from leaving.
The way you absentmindedly picked over your plate instead of actually eating was bound to catch her attention. It was obvious that she would notice as it wasn't in you to be so somber and withdrawn over dinner. You found it pointless to engage in meaningless small talk just for the sake of doing so. Truthfully, you had been pondering ways to ease into conversation and breach the topic of discussion with her but ultimately there was none. Your departure isn't something that can be mentioned in passing.
Deep wrinkles formed on her slightly aged features as she asked, "You alright sugar? I hardly ever see that round face without a smile."
The words you wanted to speak suddenly got caught in your throat. While it was a difficult conversation to have in the first place, you couldn't lie to her even if you wanted to. The anticipation of having to do so made you both nervous and unsure of how things would play out. Frankly, there wasn't really a way to soften the impact of the news you were forced to deliver. A slow and direct approach was needed, you provided a clear explanation of what you were planning to do and why.
Drawing in a baited breath, you finally let the fated words leave your mouth. "Grandma. I'm leaving tomorrow night."
Once the shock and subtle hurt became apparent, you lowered your head in shame. You hated to blindside her like this but there's no use in trying to hold it in any longer - you had to tell her anyway. God why did it feel like you were abandoning her.
"Leaving? Where are you going?"
"Some of everywhere I guess. I'm just going to travel places…explore what's out there."
While you could see the shock across her face, confusion and sadness emitted from her in waves. Silence was a part of the response, you guess. Not everyone could swiftly recover from the shock.
Immediately, the matriarch was searching your oddly composed features for any hint of humor. Sadly, you would never joke with her about something of this magnitude.
The emotions etched on her face broke your heart into two pieces. What you were saying to her had to be distressing.
After some time, she seemed to get past the initial shock, she posed the questions you expected her to have.
"But why? Why so soon?" She asked, her voice noticeably concerned.
"It was a heat of the moment kind of decision I had to make grandma. I decided that it was the right choice."
The truth was you hadn't had a clue when you'd be back.
You didn't want to flat out lie to her, so you figured you'd just stretch the truth a bit. Just enough to put any concerns at ease and help it make sense. That way the guilt won't stain your heart like ink on paper. Now you're sitting before the woman struggling not to cry.
"Just got to thinking…I really think it's the right time."
"Will you be going alone?"
Straightaway, your heart jumped at the thought of her asking who but it would seem that she didn't have the mind to ask. It's the kind of relief you're grateful for. Especially since the old woman can be quite prying when she wants to be.
"Actually, I'm traveling with a…friend."
"That's some kind of relief I reckon." She expressed, leaning back in her chair. "It's too dangerous nowadays to be traveling anywhere alone. It gives me some peace of mind to know you'll be with somebody at least."
"So…you're not going to stop me from leaving?"
"The question is why are you asking me when you already went and made up your mind? One thing I learned in this life is that if you have it in your heart to do something, make sure you're confident about it. I just wish you would've given me a little more time with you. What's wrong with you just springing this on me out of nowhere. You outta be ashamed." She chuckled.
"I don't understand? You aren't upset?"
"Now why would I be upset? What good is being upset going to do? I'm an old woman who's lived most of her life already. It's about time you lived yours."
"Baby whatever you decide to do in life, just know that grandma supports you."
"You're a grown woman that can make her decisions. If this is the path you want to walk, then I can't do nothin but stand by you. All I ask is that you be careful and call me everyday so I can know you're alright. You understand?"
"Yes ma'am." You nod.
"Good. Cause if you don't, I'm going out to find you and bring your behind back to Frisco myself."
"It's always scary when a child you raised wants to go out into the world. Had your mother not had those health problems, I believe you might've been born elsewhere under very different circumstances. She wanted to go out and see the world too."
She slid her chair out from under her and rose from the table. You always found comfort in her bosom.
"You think you've been living all this time? Serving coffee and flapjacks? Sure it's a way to make a living but it ain't meant to be a way of life. What you're getting ready to do is called a 'Leap of Faith'. It's how people find out what they truly want to be in life."
"Chile, I've been some of everywhere. Across the narrow sea and back. I only settled down in this little town after I'd seen all I wanted to. It gives you things like insight and perspective. News ways of thinking that you hadn't believed possible and you feel like you're experiencing everything for the first time."
She reached over the table and laid a comforting hand across yours. "Whatever you looking for out there…I surely hope to God you find it."
Still unwanted tears brimmed your lashes.
"I just…I just feel bad because I'll be leaving you here by your-"
"Don't you worry about me…imma be alright. You just be safe on that road you hear?"
"My my my…what a fine young woman I raised." The older woman says, brushing a stray curl from your face.
"Now eat this food, I don't want no leftovers, I gotta eat myself."
"I surely didn't think it would take you this long to mosey on down the yellow brick road Dorothy."
She always did have a great sense of humor about everything.
In preparation for your departure, your grandmother, who had done her fair share of traveling in your younger days, gave you numerous tips to utilize while on the roads. She even prepared a big lunch plate for the journey. Truthfully, you appreciated the support and thoroughness on your behalf.
With little convincing, your grandmother had dropped you off at a bus stop near a nondescript motel near the edge of town, under the impression that a greyhound would be there to pick you up early the next morning. She engulfed you in a big hug that lasted far too long.
You were surprised that she actually believed that. But you dear old grandmother wouldn't expect you to lie to her about something like that. Frankly, you don't know what else you could've said, you couldn't tell a lie to save your own life.
Anxiety clung to you like a second skin you're unable to shed. You want to feel confident and assured about your choice to be out here at night by yourself but it was very hard to do so. You're afraid and rightfully so.
The truth of the matter was that your life was about to change all because of an impulsive choice you made in order to preserve it. There wasn't a time in your life where you questioned your life choices so heavily but this seemed to be a logical thing to do considering the circumstances. Despite it all, you were somewhat excited for what was to come. Unfortunately, you had not had the luxury of traveling anywhere outside of Frisco in the many years of you taking up residence there.
Obviously meeting a stranger came with its own set of hazards and carrying out the meeting at night seemed to make it all the more worse. You'd lived a very happy, mundane life thus far and all of it was about to change. It was both an exciting but frightening prospect. As much as you desperately wanted to see the world, this wasn't at all how you envisioned going about it.
What you were doing wasn't common in this day and age. Women didn't often get the chance to choose their life path, instead settling for marriage and motherhood. But the world was changing and women didn't need men much to survive anymore. They didn't have to settle for a life they didn't want, they could go out and pursue any dream they wanted.
You both exchanged declarations of love to one another and hugged each other tightly as if it were the last time. It took some convincing for her to leave you by yourself at the bus stop. It's only when you informed her that the greyhound bus should arrive within twenty minutes and that you were safe in the spot until it came. Next to the bus stop was an isolated parking lot where a store used to be before it went out of business.
You barely noticed the dark figure sitting behind the wheel of the pickup truck at the far corner of the vacant lot. He'd parked in the darkest, most seduced area in the empty lot. It's only when the high beams flashed once that you took it as confirmation to approach.
It didn't matter if this was a bit of an inconvenience to you, as long as it suited him just fine.
He exited the car in a calm, practiced manner, approaching you in long measured steps. It was the first time you'd seen him at his full height and he was massive. The top of your head barely reached his broad shoulders. You'd forgotten that he was built like and towered over you like an impenetrable wall.
For the sake of manners, you aimed a reticent smile at him for which he did not return or acknowledge.
"Hi." You politely greeted him.
He said nothing back, instead his attention quickly shifted to the belongings you were carrying. "I travel with only one suitcase." He plainly stated.
"That seems harsh. Are those the only belongings you have?" You answered confusingly.
"Those are the only belongings I need."
"Oh well in that case these are the belongings I need."
Narrowed eyes flicked back up to yours. "I highly doubt that. Too much luggage can become an inconvenience."
"To me or you?"
"Both."
"I can't leave this behind…I have to bring it with me." You insisted.
"Why do you need a sewing machine?"
Despite the veiled irritation along his subdued visage, Anton's features were kept eerily limpid.
"I like to sew and make things. My grandmother gave it to me." You shrugged. "...it holds too much sentimental value to me. I had to bring it along."
He snorted. "Sentimental value causes a nuisance."
"Can't we compromise?" You turned to face him.
"Compromise wasn't a part of the deal." He noted with an indifferent irrefutability.
"Do you not want me to come with you?"
Something akin to glittering contempt flashed in his gaze. "You made the choice to accompany me."
"Well I didn't have much of a choice."
"You did." He said plainly.
"The choices were that I live or die."
The remote coldness in his eyes was unwavering. "And you chose."
"Please…I don't want to argue. I won't ask for anything else. Just let me bring them."
A few deathly silent moments passed as the man considered your request with callous regard.
"Your belongings are your responsibilities. Whatever happens to them is on you." He coldly replied, walking back to the truck. It was evident that he wouldn't help you unload your two suitcases and heavy sewing machine into the car.
Of course he was bringing that scary looking gun he'd threatened you with. You imagined getting hit with a bullet from it would have you knocking at death's door. He also carried a contraption that resembled something like an air tank. You wonder what he uses it for. Could it be that he had breathing problems?
Instead, he sits motionless and bothered as you struggle to situate it all into the trunk bed.
Once you slide into the passenger seat, you realize that you've worked up quite a sweat. The inside of the truck smelled of old, musky leather. The truck rattled loudly with a vibrating intensity as it started up. The mild vibrations could be felt through the firm seats of the truck. A good protein of space separated the two of you.
The two of you pulled out of the parking lot and set out on the highway. You stole a glance at him here and there.
The gunman's features were set in deep concentration on the road, subtly communicating to you that he was content to ignore your presence.
With nothing to distract you, it took nothing to become fully immersed in your thoughts. He didn't appear crazed - merely controlled and careful with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Simply put, he scared the daylights out of you. He was the first man you'd met that frightened you down to the core. He would take you to god knows where. Even across the country if his work called for it. Frankly, you didn't have much of a choice in the matter.
Other than the rumbling of the old truck, there's nothing but deafening silence as you pass by the aged sign that reads, Frisco. Just deafening silence - something he clearly valued. A tinge of sadness and unease started to expel itself from your chest at that moment.
You chewed your bottom lip nervously. As excited as you were to finally leave Frisco, you were equally just as fearful.
You rested your head lazily against the windshield.
This pointed, intentional unwillingness to socialize was disturbing to say the least. All it did was give the distinct impression that he didn't mingle much if at all. Clearly conversation didn't interest him and you weren't sure how to handle it especially since you were used to talking and bonding with people even if it was for a short time. Frankly, you don't think the awkwardness couldn't get anymore stifling and it remained as uncomfortable as a long drive could get.
He drove at an even pace, executing smooth turns and staying within the designated lane. He hadn't indicated any tiredness, his attention rapt at the road. Before long, you both are out on the darkened highway where there's barely any cars traveling at this time of night.
Obviously, he had a clear destination in mind without having to refer to any map. It makes you wonder if he's traveled the route once before. You certainly wouldn't be surprised, who knew how long he was versed in his occupation. The occupation that consisted of taking another's life. You know what you witnessed two nights ago in that field and he didn't strike you as a liar.
Before you crossed paths with him, you probably wouldn't have ever heard of such a concept before. In fact, it sounded like it was made up purely for shock value.
In the next instance, you settled for looking out the window at the darkened surroundings, easily making out the outlines of trees along the wide expanse of fields and ranches.
You started to yawn about an hour into the drive, your body starting to show clear signs of fatigue. Sleepiness crept up on you sneakily and swiftly. The faintly perceptible vibrations slowly lulled you to sleep and it was only a matter of time before your eyelids slid closed completely.
When your awareness finally returned, you found that the truck was now parked at a nondescript motel. Anton wasn't in the driver's seat and you figured that he must be getting a room for the two of you to rest in for the night. The motel was a decent one. From the outside, you deemed it suitable for a night stay, though it was likely because you were just tired and eager to seek out the nearest bed. While you didn't expect him to pick out a ratty motel to stay in for the night, even he had higher standards.
Once he returned the truck, he pulled over to the far corner of the lot, having clearly chosen a room on the end. He placed the truck in park afterwards and looked over to you.
"Get out." He ordered with supercilious reticence.
"Okay…"
You waited patiently for him to open the trunk and when you did you only retrieved one suitcase that housed all the items you needed.
Trailing silently behind him, you followed him up the door - his footsteps heavy on the concrete compared to your near silent footfalls.
Going by how you weren't given a room key, it would seem that you and him would be sharing a suite. Given that it was only two of you, it didn't make a lot of sense to have to separate rooms.
Overlooking the room, you listlessly scanned the surroundings. Gingerly placing your luggage down on the floor, quietly choosing the bed next to the bathroom on the left farthest from the door.
The old fashioned tan and monochromatic colored wallpaper was the first thing that caught your attention. The room contained two double beds parallel to one another. Two brown wooden dressers for clothing stood along the back wall where an old television set mounted high on the wall. Lastly, a single nightstand sat smack dab between the beds with a small lap situated atop it. Sadly, that wasn't enough to hide the overall dinginess' of the room.
It's as bland as any room could possibly be and already you were pondering what improvements could be made to it aesthetic wise.
You were never fond of dreary colors or spaces as your worldview is much too colorful. For example, your bedroom back in Frisco looked like a rainbow vomited all over it.
On the brighter side of things, you both had suitable accommodation for the night. There were individuals out in the elements sleeping on the streets. That unfortunate, heartbreaking fact made you all the more grateful.
The male next to you started to move deeper into the room, presumably to pick out a bed. But you stopped him in his tracks.
"Wait!" You held out a hand as a signal to stop him. "Just wait one minute."
Placing your suitcase along the floor, you hurriedly opened it, pulling out a small spray bottle filled with clear liquid. Afterwards, you went over to inspect both beds.
"My grandma said you should always spray your bed down with alcohol to kill any bed bugs."
After pulling the sheets back, you sprayed the both beds thoroughly as if you were sterilizing them completely free of bacteria. Homemade bug killer spray was the only alternative answer seeing as you weren't able to bring along your own change of bedsheets. Your suitcase was already filled to capacity and it was a wonder that you were capable of closing it.
"There we go…all those tiny critters should be dying as we speak." You happily assured. "I knew I did right packing it."
Anton said nothing, only moving forward to place his bag on the floor next to bed and began to remove the contents therein.
You eyed each of the items warily. They all looked like instruments of torture and execution. From gun shells to knives, and rope.
You paid close attention to his body language and movements. Admittedly, some bodily movements didn't require much thought. With Anton, it was like most mechanical and non-human-like. In the moment, whatever people or thing had his attention he centered his focus with great intensity until it was dismissed from his notice. Truthfully, you found it odd that some people were capable of functioning that way. Even after all your experience multitasking at the diner, you couldn't effectively center all your focus on one thing with such intensity. Your attention span was bound to fluctuate at some point during the day. On account of this, you admired him in those extraordinary aspects.
You and him would be spending excessive time together, why not try to build some kind of bond or trust? Perhaps a genuine friendship could evolve between the two of you in due time. If he was willing, that is…
That's the biggest hope you have as of now and in order to achieve that, you would do anything to appease him.
After some deliberation, you made your query known to him. "Do you want me to help?"
He lifted his head to stare at you. "No."
"Well…I'm here at your service like I promised. What do you want me to do?" You asked, coming to stand closer to him.
He gave no response, merely continuing the task at hand without sparing you a single glance.
"Are you leaving?"
"That should be obvious."
"Where are you going?"
He appeared irritated by the question and briefly contemplated whether or not he would answer. "To begin my work."
Brows furrowing, you continued throwing questions at him. "But…it's late at night. Aren't you tired?"
"No."
"Do you know when you'll be back then?" You didn't want to be left alone in a place you've never been before.
"Yes." But I don't feel the need to tell you was left unsaid.
Anton inhaled deeply through his nose, silent and long.
"Do you not like it when I ask questions?"
"You ask too many of them." He flatly responds.
"I'm charged with finding and eliminating any of his known associates."
"How do you know he's here…in this town I mean?"
If a wolf hunts rabbits for so long, they'll begin to know the rabbit's habits after a while. Quite the frightening analogy. He's a hunter…and what is a hunter good at? Tracking its prey.
Maintaining a neutral expression, the stone-faced killer's eyes bore into yours. "Stay."
The command was much like an owner ordering its pet rather than a soft spoken request to another human. He probably didn't think it was rude and dehumanizing to speak to a person that way. As a matter of a fact, you knew he wasn't aware or just didn't care. Regardless, you stayed put.
You watched him pick up and carry the huge modified shotgun with relative ease, the weight of it obviously not an issue for him. The way the man's big, heavy hands gripped the weapon sent indiscriminate shivers down your spine.
As you expected, Anton Chigurh was a cold individual with no observable warmth within him. His soul may be as barren and empty as the desert. You have just as much value to him as a piece of lint in his pocket. As strange and phlegmatic as the man was, he didn't strike you as a deceitful or untrustworthy individual. In a way, you trusted him for that. Weirdly enough, you supposed it didn't feel like that much of a mortal sin to place blind faith into him because of it.
It was hard to believe that he was only a bad man that committed heinous misdeeds in the dead of the night. Everyone had to have some good in them. Everyone was kind in their own way even if they didn't outright show it. At least that's what you chose to believe.
If you hadn't dropped your driver's license whilst fleeing would he have found you that easily? You had no real way of knowing for sure.
"Are you going to come back?"
"That's the plan."
"Okay. Be safe."
Cold gray eyes regard you for a moment before he turns to leave without another word.
You quickly brought the ball and chain up and secured the lock in place.
Your gaze becomes fixed on the brown paint of the door, seeing but not seeing. You stood on the spot for long minutes, staring at the door the man had left out of. Seemingly on autopilot, you ambled over to the bathroom.
Pausing in the doorway, you mulled over the sight of the standard small bathroom, flicking the small switch up. The lighting in the bathroom is mostly dimmed before it slowly illuminated brighter with a yellow hue. Looking past the complementary soaps offered for personal use, you reached out to grip the edge of the sink.
It's odd - you being in this motel room alone, silently going through a crisis because of the decision you made that seemed logical and right before. No matter how many times you try to convince yourself that you did the right thing, doubt will still linger nonetheless.
Your head was beginning to throb. The weight of what you've done has finally started setting in and an overwhelming sense of dread took over you. Feeling all these intense unfamiliar emotions you'd never experienced as a young woman who grew up sheltered with a limited view of the world around her, it was a lot. It had you deeply questioning several facets of your life - one of those questions being 'what did you truly desire out of life?'
Logically, you fear the worst in this situation. The intrusive thoughts felt like a disembodied voice conveying your innermost thoughts and anxiety - like it had taken a life of its own. It wasn't like you to dwell on the negatives so here and now you chose to focus on the opposite. As doing so could bring you the peace of mind desperately craved.
Up to the present, you'd lived a relatively cushy life. Working at the diner and going straight home afterwards. Rarely taking up any friends offers to go out. Admittedly, you don't have that much in depth knowledge of the world around you. The shows and films you've watched could only provide so much insight into the world you had yet to see much of.
Layers of unsettling emotion began to creep up your spine. Your heart beat loudly against your ribcage and your even breaths have suddenly become unrestrained with barely concealed panic. The pressure of it all hung over your shoulders like an anchor. You felt trapped like walls were closing in on you and there was no way to escape them. You can't deny that you aren't terrified about the future.
Being a waitress didn't stress you out nearly as much as this. Obviously a life on the road as someone's personal attendant didn't sound bad - it actually sounded very doable. In addition to that, you have already had years of experience helping and serving people. You were convinced that all you had to do was treat him like he was one of your valued customers.
Two days ago, you were ready and set to embark on the journey with a male that threatened your life, so prepared to leave everything you'd ever known behind. There was no easy way out of this - there wasn't a way out of it at all. The realization ultimately left you with one distressing option. Truth be told, you've never been that good of a decision maker and you often needed the approval or recognition of others beforehand. Regardless, you intended to hold up your end of the bargain.
Worry and apprehension was natural when implementing drastic life changes. It felt okay to convince yourself that feeling these sorts of emotions was normal in the grand scheme of things.
But if this were reality then why did it feel so surreal?
An eerie calm came over you at that moment.
Switching on the taps, you splashed the lukewarm water over your face, hoping that it would be enough to wash away the negative thoughts swirling in the recesses of your troubled mind. Dapping your face dry of any excess moisture with a nearby towel, you looked over your appearance in the mirror once more.
You could do this. You would make it.
You began the nightly process of braiding your hair back into two braids. Like your mother, your grandmother was adamant that you not use any hot combs or perms on your coiled mane for fear that it would damage so many years of manageable healthy hair, you began to wonder what it was like to have your hair styled to rise towards the sky with voluptuous volume. You'd seen many women wear afros and the style always mesmerized you to see. You would do anything to wear an afro for a day but you were much too afraid to deviate from the styles and routines you'd grown used to utilizing. After all, those same hairstyles had caused your hair to grow well past your shoulders.
You loved your curls and you would do whatever was necessary to keep them healthy and maintained. A little water and moisturizer goes a long way.
These past two days had taken a tremendous toll on you and you were far too exhausted to stay up watching tv. You would call your grandmother first thing in the morning. Hopefully, tomorrow will prove to be even more promising. After all this was to be your life for a time, better try to get used to it.
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