He says startling me wide-awake, I hadn’t noticed that I’d started nodding off. I roll over a little bit.

I think about the next thing I want to say, it’s a little difficult, “What’s your work exactly?”

“My research?”

“Yeah, I don’t want you torturing animals anymore now that I know you are.”

He chuckles, “I mean you can try to stop me but aren't I the only one keeping you alive when one of those “animals” is trying to kill you?” 

He turns, shocking me because he’s not watching the road and tilts his head, “It’s the information I got experimenting on them that’s going to hide you from them as well.” 

He turns back to the road yanking the wheel a little so we don’t go off it. I pant, clenching the seat having been flung a little bit. 

‘He’s mad.’ I keep my mouth shut. ‘Completely off his rocker.’ 

I start when he turns up the radio a little bit humming to one of the repeating songs. Honestly it’s a little scarier than when he drove in complete silence.

I lay back down after a second and wonder if he’s going to try to find another abandoned cabin in the woods somewhere. 

‘Probably. If so…am I supposed to accept it? Him as my adoptive father?’ I shudder. Once I turn eighteen I can leave, I just have to learn his secret to evading the creature and survive until then. I nod off pretty quickly.

                                    .                 .                  .       First Motel             .                     .                     .

I start and raise my hands in self defense to find the madman leaning over me. I gasp and kick him off to scoot back whimpering. 

He makes an annoyed face calmly saying, “We’re stopping here.” I look around wildly, immediately recognizing the cheap lights of a motel surrounded by the same pitch black, endless woods.

Still freaking out I whimper, “D, don’t touch me.” He raises an eyebrow not understanding what was wrong with me all of the sudden. 

“Come on, we're staying here while I figure out where to go next.” He throws a couple bags over his shoulder and then makes room for me to follow. 

“Can the monster get us in there?” I ask.

“Not with me there.” He pats his bag, grinning. 

‘Guess that means I can’t sleep in the car, I can still lock myself in the bathroom at least.’ I grab my backpack more out of muscle memory than necessity. He says nothing but grabs my bag full of snacks and after locking the car walks ahead of me. 

I smell cigarette smoke, weed, and piss. I try not to look at the other residents of the motel, feeling sick. Flashbacks threaten to overwhelm me. I let out a shuddering breath not realizing the madman had said something. I flinch hard when he forces my chin up. 

“Fuck!” I exclaim, shaking, “I said don’t touch me!” I shove past him into the room and feel bile rise to my throat at the sound of laughter. Apparently some people were paying attention. I feel my stomach lurching and running to the bathroom slam and lock the door. From where I’m leaning against it panting I can hear him.

He walks in slowly, I listen to his footsteps and the sound of him closing the door, locking it. 

I grip my arms burying my face in them, my back against the door, tense as a spring as he walks up to it. Knocking once. “I’ll need you go in there for a minute then I'll be staying up for a few hours on my laptop. Won’t you be more comfortable on the bed?”

I look up, eyes angry and red. “I’m staying in here.”

“You can go back to hiding in there or whatever after I'm done.” His voice upticks in a little irritation.

I hesitate a little trying to find a safer way to do this, "Fine but you have to step back from the door before I'm willing to open it."

I hear him go back to the mattress sitting on it, "Hurry it up." He complains and I unlock the door shakily. I look at him feeling sick again and scurry over to a corner of the room watching as he gets up and goes into the bathroom.

I wait a while as I assume he's just using it but the sounds of multiple things clinking and scraping make me wonder if he has more going on.

He leaves and has a little mortar in his hand. He looks at me and almost animatedly moves to the opposite side of the room. "Bathroom's all yours." He grins as I lower my head and hurry to it, turning as I close and lock the door to him watching. I shudder as I check to see what he did, other than a suspicious drop of blood in the sink I don't know.

I must have dozed off 'cause I snap awake to him typing away on his computer. I listen to it for a while and then standing up stiffly feeling cold to the bone I peek out of the bathroom to see that he’s leaning super close to the screen. I instinctively say, “You’ll ruin your vision like that.” 

He looks back at me and rubs his eyes a little. “Am I keeping you awake?” He stands stretching. He gestures to the bed, “You should sleep too.” 

Suddenly filled with a surge of adrenaline I bear my teeth gritting out, “There’s no way I’m letting you sleep next to me.” 

He blinks and stares for a long time, “I’m going to be driving all day,” he checks the time, “today but if you really want to hog the bed.”

I gesture, “I’m staying in here. I don’t want the bed. It’s all yours.”

He makes no expression of anything but adds, “You need to sleep too.” 

“I can sleep in the car.” I close the door a little bit defensively when he glances past me and then seems to not care anymore.

He shrugs, “As you wish.” He lays down on top of the covered mattress, not underneath the covers, no pillow, anything. The only thing human about it was the fact he rolled over onto his side. I stand there for a second and then once he falls asleep turn towards the laptop. Still sitting on the desk, still on. 

I searched for my name and the general area. I’m already posted as missing and a picture of my uncle from 10 years ago is next to me as suspect. 

‘Didn’t they see that he was dead? Or are they going to cover up my disappearance and everyone will forget in a few weeks? Say I ran away if it’s brought up?’

I try to search for something else and find an old article about an incident with the foster care system and a motel, my hands tremble and I realize the article had already been clicked. I click it scanning through it quickly.

‘So he knows now…’ I sit silently at the desk and, feeling dirty, go back to the bathroom. I shake pacing around the small bathroom holding myself tightly in my arms. Carefully I remove my hoodie. I feel the urge to shower and scrub my skin off. 

He was pissed when he found me shivering in the tub sopping wet in my clothing even with my shoes on. I can’t look him in the eyes anymore. He drags me out of the shower, only to get surprised as I go limp. I think I'm making myself sick by stress, not eating enough, on top of passing out wet. I get my feet under myself and push him away. “I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

I glare at him, “Don’t you already know?” I don’t wait for an answer. I'm exhausted, so I go to my backpack to find a change of clothes.

I’m trembling violently, finally feeling the freezing clothes stuck to my body. He folds his arms as I come back to the bathroom. 

“Take a hot shower first.” He demands. I blink. He turns on the hot water and gestures. I shiver and nod for him to get out. 

When he hesitates, I insist, “I will!” 

He leaves but pointedly mentions, “Take enough time to warm up thoroughly. I don't want you getting sick, you’re annoying enough as it is.” 

I shut and lock the door swiftly, stripping off the cold clothing and leave my shoes ‘cause they’re already soaked and I didn’t feel like getting any skin diseases.' I tense as the sudden temperature change is almost painful but then sigh as the warmth sinks deep into my bones replacing the cold. 

I wait until I had stopped shivering for a while and then turn off the water. I slick it off me as much as I can because again I’m not using the towels here. Stretching out I grab the clean dry clothing and put it on, getting a little damp again. My shoes were a pain to take off and put back on, especially since I didn't bother with socks this time and I had to balance on top of them while changing. 

'I should ask for flip flops at the next store. And a towel.'  I hurriedly pull on my hoodie, it’s strange it feels like something is in the hoodie pocket. I go to reach into the pocket but flinch when I hear a loud thud, I’d better hurry.

I squeeze out my hair listening to the madman packing everything up again as I brush my teeth. I put everything back into my backpack except the wet clothes. 

Opening the door I ask, “Can you get one of the bags the snacks were in, I’m going to put these in them.” 

He looks at me and then frowns, “Why are you still wet.”

 “You can’t use the towels here, everyone knows that.” I say. He blinks at me very slowly and then without questioning hands me an empty bag. I store my wet clothes away and then realize he’s already finished packing. I guess he didn’t really bring much into the room but still. 

“Where are we going now?” I ask as we leave. The fresh air hits me. We walk doen the stairs as he makes a muttering complaint about coffee so I grab his arm, pointing. He’s confused and so I explain, “It’s probably cheap and disgusting but motels usually have coffee at the front desk for guests.” 

The madman looks towards the front desk where a few shady individuals were laughing and talking, making fun of each other and talking about long nights and “work?” They all had a cup of coffee. 

He tells me, “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” 

I watch him go to the front desk and get a cup of the so-so coffee then to my surprise start chatting up the locals. I guess that makes sense. I turn and feel my heart stutter in my chest when an extravagant teenager a little older than me is right there. I stare like a deer in headlights at all the bright pretty shades of green including his hair, some piercings, and strange clothing. He smiles at me. 

“Are you working here now?” Before I can answer he holds out his hand. “A lot of the other’s are mean at first, they always say new arrivals don’t last long and they kinda feel bad for us being too young and all.” Immediately he clocks my horror and discomfort and pulls back, with a, ‘Oh you’re one of those,’ expressions that make me feel terrible for judging him. “What?” He sneers a little.

“Sorry.” I say looking back towards the madman wincing to see that he was watching closely. I turn back to the boy, jumping when his face was right next to mine. He came up beside me to look at who I was looking for. 

“Ah. I see. If I’ll get you in trouble talking to you I can go.”

“No.” I breathe out slowly. “I’m just....” He looks at me again, lowering his lids which have skilled eyeshadow and eyeliner on them. He’s really pretty.

“Jumpy?” He offers, smiling again.

I stop because I can’t tell why or how he can be so energetic and happy. 

“I’m not working here, I…I don’t do that kind of work.” I watch his expression carefully now, desperately wanting to keep talking to someone around my age. He looks at me closely like he can’t decide what to think about me. 

“So you’re passing through.” He sighs leaning against my “uncle’s” car. “Who’s the man you’re traveling with, you in danger?”

“Yes,” I laugh holding my wounded hand close to myself before looking at it. “but…I think he cares about me in a weird way,” ‘I’m his cover story.’ “Part of me thinks he’s just gotten used to me being around.”

He nods understandingly. “Has he ever hurt you?”

“He’s…mean but at least he’s not the one actively trying to kill me.” I mess with my bandaids. The boy probably already clocked all the bruises and I’m sure all the wincing and jumping isn’t helping. 

He offers his hand and I startle but he flutters his eyelashes, “Can I see.”

I show him the bandaged hand. 

“Poor thing.” He murmurs to me. Then he lifts my hand so gravity exposes more, looks at the bruise and bracelet on my wrist. “He’s pretty strong to do this.” He handles me gently so I can pull away my hand if I wanted to. “Usually it’s the other way around, from a bad situation to a worse one.” He leans forward, “But if you want I can make him disappear.” I freeze when for a second he doesn’t seem human anymore his eyes glow weird. 

I manage to choke out, “Thank you, but he’s currently the only one keeping me alive. Maybe once I figured out how to survive without him.”

“Sure! I’ll help you, here’s my number.” He hands me a slip of paper. “Call me whenever you can, unless he’s the type to let you use a phone then you can call or text whenever.” 

I feel a little excited about getting his number. I feel a tiny smile twitch in the corner of my mouth. 

He notices this and starts teasing, “What’s that,” he points at my face, “that doesn’t look like a frown.”

“Get away from him.” The madman says freezing the warm atmosphere around us. 

The boy lowers his green eyes with a fake smile, “I’m just making friends with your son.”

“Nephew.” The man corrects coldly, “I’m his uncle and I don’t want him making friends with the likes of you.”

I pull away from my uncle slipping the number in my pocket. 

“Fuck off.” I mutter and they both look at me in shock. The green haired kid points to himself and then my “uncle”. 

“Don’t be rude.” I glare at the towering madman who resumes his stoic expression, “I can make friends with whoever I want, not like you were particularly invested in whether or not I had any friends before.”

“You have the plush bird.” He says so straight faced I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

The green haired kid makes a few light hearted noises and then says, “Well I should probably go.”  

“Hold on a second.” My uncle says and I move closer to the green boy protectively. He looks at me, “Check your pockets real quick.” I roll my eyes and pull my pockets inside out only to find my wallet and phone were, gasp, still there. 

I show them off and the green boy laughs melodiously, “Is that what this was about?”

He blows me a kiss, shocking me, “Hear from you soon.” I flush a little as he turns and walks off. 

“Don’t tell me you’re actually interested in that?” My “uncle” gestures with a look of disappointment. 

“Friendly, charismatic, and cute.” I say, “Who would possibly be into that?”

“So, he’s nothing like you.” He quips.

“Haha, maybe that’s the whole point, opposites attract.”

“He was definitely…colorful.” The madman looks at my dark clothing other than my hoodie, after being washed by my uncle turns out it was a bright orange. “Flashy colors just like a bird.” He looks at me with that sadistic smirk and I tense. Opening the car door, slipping in, I slam it. 

I pout quietly to myself as my “uncle” goes around the car slowly, taking his time. I take out my phone and add the green haired boy as a contact. 

Texting, ‘Hi, it’s me.’ I realize we never did introductions. I wonder if I’ll be able to keep up with texting him, I doubt life will ever be normal again. My phone notification immediately goes off.