A/N: This whole backstory/origin is a work in progress. I will be rearanging scenes and adding more in-between, so you will find [CONTENT MISSING] information in a lot of spaces. If you want to be the most up-to-date on everything related to this series, I would recommend going to /jenhunter :)
Just consider it random time skips for now.
xXx
She quickly pulled out the tube of coloring cream from the box and slipped it into her sleeve. Then she popped open a box of the strongest hair bleach and did the same with the bottle of developer and the sachet of bleach powder. She placed both of the emptied boxes in the back of the shelf, behind a few full ones. By the time they find it she will be long gone, even if they care to check the security footage.
She grabbed a small bottle of the cheapest sparkling water on her way to the checkout and placed it on the conveyor. She let the hair products slide out of her sleeve and into her bag when she fumbled inside for her wallet.
Lady at the cash register greeted her in a tired voice, scanned the bottle of water, and told her the price in Czech. The girl spilled a bunch of Czech korunas she had left from family trips to Prague and Liberec cities; just a spare change from getting snacks really, but enough for a small bottle of water. She paid and just nodded at the lady when she received her receipt and walked away. Better to come off rude than let her hear she's a foreigner. Less memorable as well.
She followed signs to the shopping center's public restrooms.
A dozen small stalls were lined across the mirrored wall with sinks, but she found that the big cabin meant for handicapped people had its own big sink. She looked around to assure that no cameras were present in the common area of the bathroom before locking herself inside the big stall.
Nearly two hours later she was nearly finished drying her hair using the hand dryer mounted to the wall. She looked into the mirror at the product of her work - her hair was now a bloody red color and slightly straighter from the damage bleaching caused. Very distinct from the natural brown curls she had before. She grabbed scissors from her makeup kit and spent another ten minutes doing a decent job of cutting her bangs.
She then pulled out a small box with colored lenses and put them on. Her dark brown eyes were now grey. It didn't look very realistic up close, but it sure made it difficult to tell what her actual eyes look like. Then she took time to apply dark eye makeup and lipstick - something she's never done before for anyone to see, but only to practice and wash it off immediately. It wasn't perfect but it was dark, and the slight messiness kind of went with the alternative look she was slowly transforming into. She finished it off by changing her light blue jeans and bright t-shirt with a Mickey Mouse print into a black outfit she pulled out from her bag. Topping it with a black baseball cap she placed her khaki bag into a non-transparent plastic bag she brought in a side pocket of the khaki one and left the stall.
She knew the style was going to draw attention, but it was different from what anyone would be looking for if trying to find her. She always used to wear light, fun colors, printed shirts with cartoon characters, never any makeup, she had bold, colorful jewelry made out of cheap plastic - the type that comes along with preteen magazines. The usual stuff a 13-year-old girl in 2010 wore to fit in - a style she maintained in spite of herself, solely so that she has control over what they would be looking for, should they come looking for her. Now she didn't look like a 13-year-old try-hard kid, with the dark makeup and color scheme she looked like a punk-rocker that is about 16.
She knew how unlikely it is that someone would figure she crossed the border, but she didn't want to take chances. At the same time she thought it would be too much to do the dye job and this entire transformation in the wild, just because there are cameras in the mall.
She felt pretty confident that no one will look twice at her from before and after and think it's the same person, unless they really had too much time on their hands. Even if they somehow tracked her to here, she was in the bathroom for a long time and the only thing that is the same about her now are the black and white sneakers.
She left the mall and walked for almost an hour before disposing of her old clothes in a bin in front of somebody's house and making sure to cover it with their own trash.
Another fifteen minutes later she purchased a cheap, but sturdy-looking black backpack, sat down in a nearby park to replace her belongings in the new item, and disposed of her old bag in a communal dumpster at a nearby estate. This was the final thing that she knew they could figure out that she took from home and could describe to the police if trying to find her. The new clothes she was wearing were purchased in a second-hand store, unknown to her family, and kept in a drawer they had no business looking inside of, waiting for this day. The day of reckoning.
The complete purge being done with, she headed onto one of the roads leading out of the city. Her thumb up whenever someone would pass, she finally heard a car pull up and the window at the driver's side opened slowly;
"Potřebuji svézt?"
She could only guess what he's saying, but the guy seemed friendly and lithe enough not to pose too much of a threat, so she sent him a smile; "I need a ride, if that's what you're asking."
"Oh" he seemed surprised only for a moment before smiling. "Yu a tourist? Come in car" he said in an accented voice pointing at the passenger's seat.
"Thanks" she got in and he started driving again.
"So where going?"
"Sorry?"
"Where yu going?"
"Ah" she nodded her understanding. "Any town or city in that direction is fine."
Especially during those first 24 hours, she wanted to put as much distance between where she was and where she is, because she still felt like someone could be breathing down her neck. The day was soon to end but she didn't want to stop yet. She just looked out the stranger's car's window as they continued south, not knowing where she was headed exactly but growing more and more content with each mile because that direction was taking her further away from anyone who might try to stop her.
[CONTENT MISSING]
My feet moved so quickly, I don't think I ever ran this fast in my life. No PE teacher ever gave me a fraction of the motivation to run that this policeman did as he chased me down the street of Munich, shouting something in German. I barely took one year of German and knew less than a dozen words, but I wasn't going to stop to ask him to shout in English instead. All I needed to know was that law enforcement was the last kind of people I needed to interact with as an underage runaway.
The day was going so well; I found a neighborhood where somebody's apple and cherry trees had branches hanging over the fence of their backyard, and noted the place in my notebook to make sure I can find my way back there whenever I need it.
I also managed to find an old lady who needed help carrying groceries and was happy to invite me for dinner as a thank-you. She didn't speak any English, but I think her husband passed away and her children and grandchildren rarely visit, if they visit at all. The lady just needed somebody to talk at, and didn't even seem bothered by the fact that I didn't understand more than a word of it. She showed me some old photos and explained, what I believe to be, backstories and who's who, but again - not much of it made sense to me. What I did understand was the food she kept piling up on my plate until it filled me to the brim. When it was time for me to go she even made a bunch of sandwiches and wrapped them in tinfoil for me to take along.
A part of me was already wondering if it's a one-time deal or if the lady will be open to me paying more visits. It seemed risky and needed to be thoroughly thought through, but worth considering.
Maybe if I play my cards right I could have a permanent place to stay, with four walls and a bed.
I was just thinking about that as I walked down the street and watched my shadow grow and shrink from one orange streetlamp to the next. That's when I heard a man's voice, very clear in the night;
"Halo! Mädchen!"
I turn around, alarmed, only to confirm the worst-case scenario. A middle-aged police officer is hanging out of his car's window, looking directly at me.
"Bist du in Ordnung?" he asks. I don't say anything, I don't even know what the question is. I can only guess and follow the golden rule - smile and nod. My face is turned to him and I don't move not to cause alarm, but my eyes are shifting around, looking for an escape route. "Wo sind deine Eltern? Bist du verloren?"
He keeps talking at me and I cuss in my head. He's not going to just move along, is he?
I see him look down to undo the safety belt. He reaches to open the door of his car. "Es ist sehr spät, wissen Sie…" his foot touches the ground. "Du solltest nicht draußen se-"
He cuts off the moment he realizes I darted down the street, immediately turning into an alley that wasn't wide enough for a car to get through. I heard him call after me in confusion before taking off after me.
And this is how I ended up here. Maneuvering between trash cans and parked cars as I chased myself into a nearby suburban area. The rush made me really appreciate how much I want to live life without my past. In that moment it was like everything depended on getting away from that man. If he catches me and brings me to the station, it's game over for me.
I made a few turns trying to lose him, but the man had more juice than I expected. Or maybe my stamina was just bad. Either way, I knew I wouldn't be able to outrun him.
So I had to outsmart him. I knew this area already, too. You won't get me, motherfucker - I thought.
I looked over my shoulder to see how much ground there was between us, then I took a sharp left and almost immediately threw my backpack over the same fence where the apple and cherry trees were hanging over the pavement a dozen feet further away. I grabbed onto the top of the fence - it was made of tightly lined planks of wood and there was nothing on it to support my foot, but a dozen inches away from the fence was a freestanding electricity box that I used to kick off and swing my legs over the fence.
I fell onto the other side, my thigh hitting a decorative stone and causing me to painfully roll to the side. I almost screamed in pain, but my survival instinct was stronger than the pain. Maybe stronger than anything else I had in me.
I heard the policeman's footsteps come around the corner just as I stopped flat on the ground behind the fence, my face twisted with pain, and I froze. I focused on breathing low through the pulsating pain in the side of my thigh, and I listened. He ran a few feet before slowly stopping. I could see his shadow on the neatly kept grass a few mere feet in front of me. He turned around a few times, confused. His fingers appeared above the tall fence just before the top of his head peaked over it. A part of me wanted to just get up and run, but I made myself stay still. The shadows just under the fence were deep, and he didn't seem to want to haul himself all the way over to this side. I remained flat in the darkness.
After two, maybe three seconds of surveying the garden his hands gave out and he dropped back onto the pavement.
Finally, he headed down the street.
I counted down a minute before breathing a sigh of relief.
At last, I tried to lift myself. The pain in my thigh caused me to wince, but I figured it was not so bad that I wouldn't be able to walk. I got up and picked up my backpack which landed upside down close to the wooden fence.
At last I looked at the garden I hopped into. The apple and cherry trees rose behind me, a hammock hanging between them. A small, blow-up pool stood in the middle of the lawn along with some sunbathing chairs and a bunch of plastic toys. Some other trees and bushes were scattered around the edges of the garden, but nothing was particularly interesting from what I could see. Of course, the darkness could have to do with it, but I wasn't going to risk turning on a flashlight. The shadows were to my advantage.
I walked along the edge of the garden to stay hidden until I found the part of the fence where it would be the easiest to get over it without making much noise. I made sure the policeman was nowhere on the horizon and got back onto the street.
xXx
The following day felt to me like a deja vu, as I ran down a particularly obscure street, chased by three 20-something-year-olds in tracksuits, the kind of scum that will ask you if you have a problem to pick up a fight. The language doesn't matter, you can tell this is exactly what they are up to just by the way they speak and try to make themselves look big and intimidating as they stand in your way.
Three grown-ass men harassing a 13-year-old girl. Almost feels like I'm back in my hometown.
Which is all the more reason why I flipped them off, pushed past them, and ended up chased.
If I was still in my hellhole of a 'hometown' I would not run. I'd say that's a pussy response. If I get beat up, so be it. If I'm beaten to death - so be it. I have nothing to lose. But I'm away from my hellhole and I intend to stay away from it, and for that, I need to limit the risks I'm taking. I do have a lot to lose now.
But once again, outrunning is not an option. One guy - maybe. But between the three of them, at least one will be bound to have more stamina and speed than I do. Being short doesn't help me either.
So I didn't take long to spot my window of opportunity and dive through a cracked door to a crappy old apartment building. I closed it behind me and the lock clicked. I didn't know whether they saw me or would figure I went in there, but just to be safe I ran up the stairs.
The mezzanine had a cracked, dirty window looking out into the street. I stayed to the side as I peeked out. At first, I thought they were nowhere to be found, but then I spotted them further down the street. Must have run right past the door. Stupid.
But if being chased down the Munich streets twice has any lesson to be learned, it's that it's time to get away from the city. It's not safe for me to stay where there are so many eyes watching. Big cities have too many cameras, smaller cities have too many questions. If I want a place to stay a little longer, I need to find a place away from society.
Then I remembered the hammock sitting between the apple and cherry trees in that one garden.
xXx
My mind was made up, as soon as the dawn broke the next day I was on my way out of the city of Munich, the hammock neatly folded inside a plastic bag in my hand. The family seemed to be well-off, I'm sure they won't miss it too much. Meanwhile, for me, it was a treasure that could make or break my future.
I walked along the side of the road for a few hours, making sure to stay far enough away from it that I can see where it goes but be mostly invisible to the cars passing by. I walked most of the day, losing track of time. By the afternoon my back was hurting from the weight of my backpack and my feet were sore, especially since the terrain was getting more and more uneven.
I started making stops. Drank the water I had on me, ate some of the fruit I took along with the hammock. Rested my feet and back. Got up, walked again. I kept it up until I was spent and the sun was starting to hide behind mountains that now rose on the horizon.
I decided to spend the night where I was. I went deep enough into the woods so that I wouldn't be seen from the road at all and searched for a good spot. I couldn't find any trustworthy branches where my hammock would fit but I did find an oddly shaped tree that I could climb onto and sleep in. It felt relatively secure and was just high enough to provide a level of isolation from the ground and everything creeping on it.
As I made myself 'comfortable' with my backpack as a pillow and the hammock as a blanket-slash-bedsheet I looked towards the dark shape of mountains against the setting sky. Tomorrow I will pull further away from the main road and bee-line my way towards these mountains.
Living in the wild will surely come with its new challenges and maybe my odds of survival will be lowered by a lot, but… my odds of being found, caught, and brought back to my family will decrease immeasurably.
And going back is the only fear I have anymore.
[CONTENT MISSING]
