Voiceless - M. Sinclair


Colette Allard

Exhaustion didn’t even begin to describe how I was feeling at this exact moment.

My eyes were half shut as I leaned my head against the filthy Greyhound Bus station window, waiting on the last leg of my journey. The one that would take me south and into California. Not that I didn’t find Seattle enjoyable or even beautiful, but I was hoping for something warmer than the east coast city I’d run from.

Then again, literally anything would be warmer than the small town of Pales, Maine. I know, sounds appealing, right? Well, it wasn’t, for the record. It fucking wasn’t.

I closed my eyes experimentally, just to see how exhausted I truly was. Immediately, a sigh of relief slipped from my mouth, feeling the weight of the past twenty-four hours on my body lessen. This sucked. This sucked so goddamn much and I had absolutely no one to blame but myself.

If I had grown the balls to take more than five hundred dollars from my father’s office, I could have afforded a business class suite on the previous leg of my little journey across the United States. Well, I suppose ‘little’ would imply a few states instead of Maine to Washington, but the time had gone by fairly fast while tucked into my small bench of the Amtrak. I was a bit pissed I had to take the bus down to California, but if it got me there, I wouldn’t complain. Plus, it left me with a bit of money left over which was important… for you know, food and shit.

I could have taken more, for the record, he had tens of thousands of dollars in there. I had left home for a reason though and I truly had no urge to be more indebted to them than necessary. I had also felt guilty.

My original ticket had cost me almost two hundred and fifty dollars because I’d bought it ten minutes before the train left, taking a chance and hoping that across the country would bring me better luck than Maine.

I’d been a half an hour into my eighteenth birthday when I’d decided that was it. That was the night I would have to leave. I couldn’t and wouldn’t wait any longer than that. It didn’t matter to me if I didn’t graduate. Although, I would be surprised if I didn’t because I’d taken all but two finals. It didn’t matter to me if my parents noticed my absence. Which they probably wouldn’t. All I cared about was finally taking the freedom that was so rightly mine. One I’d been deprived of most of my life.

For so long I’d lived by their rules and my focus had been on what they needed. But what type of life is one where everything is pre-dictated by someone that doesn’t listen to you? Doesn’t hear you? It’s not a life. So I left, and I didn’t feel guilty about it.

I did feel a bit stupid right now though. Did I really think I’d be able to do this? All on my own? I had a little under half my money left and I hadn’t eaten anything in the past twenty-four hours, scared that I would need the little money I had left for something down the line. I didn’t exactly have a lot of experience of managing finances, so I was somewhat winging it at this point. I figured erring on the side of caution was good because I’d heard Los Angeles, my final destination, was extremely expensive. I nibbled my lip, wondering if maybe the most expensive city, or one of them, in the country had been the best choice for me. Probably not.

No point in worrying about it now, though. My ticket for the bus was bought and here I was, waiting for it.

I pulled the sleeves of my oversized hoodie over my palms and adjusted my beanie, making sure the dark grey fabric covered my vibrant purple hair. My leggings were insulated and keeping my limbs fairly warm, although in retrospect considering it was spring, I should have brought a warmer jacket. I’d only brought the essentials I could fit into a large backpack.

Now I felt like it was nothing, maybe one week of clothes at the most. Maker, I was so unprepared in life. I hated how sheltered, naive, and let’s not forget about how stupid I’d been. All this crap wasn’t helping the headache that was pounding through my temples as something was said over the loudspeaker, the low