| Sighing, I stand in the center of the huge bus station unsure as to what to do. The drive over was quick and painless. The fare prepaid and the driver curt and silent. I listened to my burnt CD loudly in a vain attempt to keep my thoughts on fair ground. I can’t think about what happened or was happening. I can’t, cause if I did… I can’t even bring myself to say it so I quickly change my thoughts. It’s now that the uncertainties of my situation hit me. I have no idea where I'm going or what I'm doing. Where do I go from here? What bus am I to take? The best thing I can think to do is to go to information. I reach into my bag and pull out my winter hat. I pull it on over my headphones keeping them firmly in place. Slowly but surely I trudge up to information and get in line behind a small young family. I keep my head down and shove my hands in my pockets. The line slowly moves forward. People move about hurriedly but all I can hear is the gorgeous deep voice of Nickel Back’s lead singer pounding in my ears. I feel a pair of eyes staring at me and look up. The tiny 2 or 3 years old girl from the young family stands behind her mother’s leg staring at me with interest. I look at her crudely, more then likely frightening her cause she buries her face in her mothers coat hiding from me. She pokes her head out. I make a face and she giggles. Her mother looks down curtly and shushes the child cautioning her that they were in a public place. I glare at the mother angrily. How dare she stop a child from having a little fun. Is that not what childhood is for? To laugh and have fun? To be carefree and to enjoy the wondrous things around you? The child looks down sadly and apologizes to her mother. I shake my head and stab knives into the mother with my eyes. I look to the child again, smile sweetly and mouth the words I'm sorry. She grins at me. Out of nowhere the primal need to cry envelops me and I have to gasp for breath. I don’t understand it nor do I want to. I face my back to the little girl and turn up my music effectively blocking out the world for the time being. Before I know it, it’s my turn. I look up and am greeted by a huge smiling face. If it weren’t for my instincts I would have jumped back in fright. Happy people scare me. No one can be as happy as this blonde looks. I force a smile. Her lips move but nothing comes out. I pull my headphones out from underneath my hat and down around my neck, Runaway by Linkin Park blaring. “Hi.” The lady says cheerfully. “Welcome to Greyhound, how may I assist you today.” She asks me her voice overly perky. I swear to god if she smiles anymore her face is gonna crack. This thought makes me giggle. Her smile falters a little but she regains it. “I need help finding a bus.” My voice is raspy and deep. She smiles even bigger. “Okay then. Where is this bus to?” She asks turning to her computer. I let out a nervous laugh. “Here’s the thing. I have no idea where I'm going or what bus I’m supposed to take, just that there is one. Does that make sense?” Her eyebrows furrow and her lips purse. Even then she looks annoyingly in high spirits. She makes a sound that says she’s thinking. “Ok dear. Give me your full name and I’ll look you up in the computer, see if we have any reservations in your name.” She turns to the computer and waits patiently for me to tell her my name. I rest my arms on the high counter and lean on them. “Maria.” I watch as she types my name. She looks at me expectantly. “Deluca. D…E…L…U…C…A.” I spell it out for her not caring if she needs me to or not. She finishes typing and then turns to me. “Maria Alejandra Deluca?” I acknowledge that that’s my name with a curt nod of the head. “Id please?” She asks joyfully. I reach down and grab my wallet chain. I pull my wallet up and dig out my Id card. She takes it and compares the information with what’s on the computer. “Okay Miss Deluca.” She says turning around and grabbing some pieces of paper. “This is your first bus ticket…” “Wait first?” I ask confused. “As in more then one bus?” “Yes, the instructions say that you are to take the 6:30 bus to Baltimore. Once there you are to go to information and pick up another ticket that will take you to Cleveland. From there you are to take another bus to Memphis. Then you are to go to Dallas and from there you will take a final bus to your final destination Roswell, New Mexico.” She informs me cheerfully. “Roswell? Alien’s-R-Us Roswell?” I asks astonished. Of course mother would send me somewhere preposterous, she was insane. “That’s what it says. See for yourself.” The lady offers, turning the computer to me. “No, no its alright. I believe you.” I sigh in frustration. What the heck could there be in Roswell for me? She hands me my ticket. I take it and shove it in my jean pocket. “6:30 right?” “Yes, gate 12. Which is right there.” She points to the large sign with the number 12 on it. “Wow, who would have guessed.” I snap, sarcastically. I don’t bother to apologies nor do I thank her instead I storm off in the direction of the door. I plop down in a plastic chair and pull my legs up. In a need for both warmth and some sense of comfort I wrap my arms around them and hug myself. No one else would. My Marvin The Martian watch tells me that it’s only 3. I have three and a half hours to spare and nothing to do. Bored of the burnt CD I have been listening to for the last thirty minutes, I flip through my collection for a new one. “I may be useless but I have great CD’s.” I joke to myself sadly. I choose my David Usher CD, a CD that greatly reflects my current mood. I pull my head phones back up, I pull my hat over top and rest my head on my knees. My thoughts wonder to my apparent destination. Roswell. What could be in Roswell for me? Even better question who? My mother never spoke of family. No grandparents. No aunts or uncles. No distant cousins. Nothing. I sigh and relax, leaning on my knees completely. My stomach grumbles reminding me that I haven’t eaten a thing in over a day. “Vending machine here I come.” I mumble as I stand up. Looking around I find one and walked towards it. I stand there and stare at all the salty and sugary foods trying to decide which one will fill me up the most. I have to conserve what little money I have. Choosing a nameless brand of junk food that’d last me at least half a day and drag my feet all the way back to my chair. I curl up again and eat a tiny portion of the fatty food. My stomach graves for more, grumbling at me angrily for depriving it. “You shush.” I speak softly. The three and a half hours passed by slowly. When the time came I got on the bus and sat all the way in the back and curled up. I watch the sun set as we drive out of town. TBC |
| Part 2 |
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