Dismantled (Girls on Top #2)

by Yara Greathouse

  Calmly, I sling my back pack on my shoulder and walk out of the restroom making my way to the ticket window. Looking at the board, I see the next bus is headed to Miami, FL. There is an older lady inside the booth and it looks like she’s reading a book. As casually as I can, I say: “Excuse me, ma’am, one ticket to Miami, please. When is the bus leaving?”

  Without looking at me, she says “It leaves in 20 minutes.” She rings up my ticket, I hand her the cash and she gives me my change. Shit! 20 minutes is 15 minutes too long. I have to find a hiding place pronto.

  After I get the ticket, I turn around and scan the room. I decide to chance it and step outside. I look around and find the bus arrival/departure area. The bus was already waiting for passengers, but I am not stupid. Those goons will show up in a few minutes and the first place they will look will be on that bus. The second place will be the bathrooms. At the moment I am covered by the shadows in the parking lot. I have to find a hideout fast. My head starts hurting and my heart is thumping.

  Breathe. Breathe.

  A vehicle is coming. I hide around the corner of the building trying to figure out where to go. When the vehicle pulls up next to the bus, I realize it is a white van. On the side, there is a sign that says “Joy of Clean, Janitorial Services.” The driver and another guy get out of the van and then they go to the back of the van to get their cleaning equipment out. They are talking about their weekend plans, joking and laughing. I find myself wishing I could joke and laugh about my current situation... Once they are in the building, I make my way to the van and try the handle – the door opens! While climbing inside the van I hear a loud engine approaching. I don’t bother to look, my heart is telling me it’s them. And I still have ten more minutes before the bus is ready to go. I quickly slam the door, lock it, and hide behind the driver seat, next to all the brooms and mops and cleaning solutions.

  Just as I settle behind the seat, the vehicle pulls up near the van. I recognize the voices. It’s Jesse and two of his body guards. I tried to stay calm, but my body is not paying attention to my brain at the moment. I am so scared I shiver and shake as if I was locked inside a commercial freezer. At this moment, I would much rather be inside a commercial freezer than waiting for these monsters find me. I hear Jesse give instructions for one of them to go inside the building, the other to go around the building and he was going to look inside the bus.

  Minutes feel like decades and time moves ever so slowly – but my heart is beating double time. I feel someone lean on the van and try the handle, only to find it locked, then something hits the van and I jerk out of fear, but there are no windows on the back of the van and they cannot see me.

  “Son of a bitch!” Jesse says as they reconvene in the parking lot. “Are you sure you didn’t see anything?” He asks the others.

  “Nothing, Sir.” One of the goons answers.

  “Did you show her picture to the cashier?”

  “Yes, Sir. Also to the cleaning crew and the few customers inside the building. No one has seen her around here.”

  “Dammit!” He says and hits the van again causing my heart to jump. I realize I have stopped breathing and make myself inhale slowly.

  “If she isn’t here, she must be at the train station. Let’s go!”

  After loud doors slam, I hear the squeal of tires peeling out of the parking lot and at the same time the bus engine reeves up. I jump from behind the seat up over the driver side and quickly look out of the window – they are gone! Unlocking the door, I jump out of the cleaning van and run towards the bus moving my arms so the driver sees me right as he was getting ready to take off.

  The driver opens the door and asks “Got any luggage?”

  “No luggage, thanks.” I climb up and start walking towards the back of the bus.

  “Miss?” I hear the driver voice again and my soul jumps out of my skin, he has recognized me!

  “Do you have your ticket?” Realization dawns on me as I turn around, dig inside my pocket and pull the ticket out, passing it to him. He gives me what is seems a knowing smile and I swiftly turn around and move towards the back, staying away from the windows – they were definitely not safe. Not until I leave this awful place. Finding an empty seat on the aisle next to an older lady, I sit down. Leaning back on the seat, I am able to take a deep breath. Looking up to the Heavens, I quietly whisper a thank you, and it is the first time in a long time my lips dare to give in to a tiny smile. Once my body stops trembling and my breathing returns to normal, I realize we are out of the city limits and it is the first time in at least a year that I actually feel hopeful instead of hopeless.

  * * *

  “You will NEVER be able to hide from me, you fucking bitch! I will find you and destroy you! I will never stop looking for you!”

  Jesse’s voice chases me while I run as fast as I can, leaving me no choice but to draw a huge breath of air. I feel a hand on my arm, shaking me gently. My eyes open in a panic and I look down at my arm, then up, following the hand that is touching me. My gaze stops on a pair of gentle eyes looking sadly at me.

  “You were having a bad dream, dear.” The old lady says to me. I nod at her and smile thanking her for waking me up. There’s no telling what I have blabbered about while I was dreaming and I need to keep everything low key.

  I look around carefully noticing everything for the first time. The lights are off with just a faint glow coming from the emergency exit signs. Looking out the window, I read the next road marker that we come across. It appears we are in South Carolina. The temperature inside this bus is a little chilly, and I’m thankful for the oversize sweatshirt I have on. Getting up slowly to stretch my aching muscles, I look at all the other passengers around me: everybody’s head is bobbing gently following the motions of the bus. I allow myself to relax a little. Things are going good and this crazy idea is going to work out after all.

  When the bus arrives at the next stop, I approach the driver and ask how long we have to use the facilities. Fifteen minutes before we head out again. I hurry to use the restroom – another dinky one, but at least smells of pine sol instead of pee – and then I head towards the vending machines. Things have gotten pricey: I slide in a dollar and a quarter for a bottle of Coke, and another dollar for a Twix bar. Can you say sugar high? Shaking my head, I head back to the bus, the driver is talking to another passenger, telling him the next stop is Atlanta, Georgia, and after that he’s headed for Columbus, Georgia. I have never been too comfortable in extra large cities. I start to consider where to get off. Although my ticket says Miami, Florida, I do not want to end up there. If Jesse figures out that I left on this bus, he will follow.

  Jesse is like my very own dedicated and personal bounty hunter, although I have never committed a crime, he treats me as if I had taken away everything that matters to him, when in reality he has done that to me and others. He’s obsessed with owning me. Relentless. Always seeking me out. I have to come up with a plan to keep him away. If I could fake my own death I would do it, just to get rid of him, but I lack the contacts, money and access to do what’s needed to carry out that plan.

  Relaxing in my seat, I close my eyes again and when I wake up, I will be where life wants me to be. Long ago I made a promise to myself: When I finagle my way out, there would be no regrets and life will be lived to the fullest enjoying every day as if it was my last. I have suffered enough during my life and I am letting go of all that. Will my future be happy? Who knows, but I’m sure as hell going to give it everything I’ve got.

  * * *

  The bus driver makes the announcement that we are arriving in Columbus, Georgia. I can’t help but to smile. Those three steps leading out of the bus are symbols of freedom, happiness and the possibility of dreams to be sought after – I cannot wait to leap out of this bus and into life. As the sun comes out in the horizon I look at the blazing orange, blue and yellow sky and say to myself “Happy Birthday, Brianna.” Today, I am 18 years old and free.

  Looking around t
he neighborhood makes me wonder if a bus station has ever been built in a decent area. There are questionable individuals everywhere. Thank goodness for daytime arrivals. Nothing can put a damper on my day, however, and I have tons of things to do. First and foremost I have to find a place to stay and put into motion the second part of my plan.

  I notice that the old lady who sat next to me also got off the bus. I ask her if she knows of a nearby motel. She indicates that there is one about a mile down the road, I thank her and start walking. While passing a car dealership I hear a loud engine and the sounds transports me back to last night. My heart starts hammering fast, my head feels hot and heavy. I find myself tensing up and have to remember to relax – I was not followed. No one knows my whereabouts and I need to let go of the fear. Fear can cripple you while it works its way inside your head. It creates holes filled with doubt until all your resolve is weak and sinks into nothing.

  Fear is the reason one believes when people tell you that you are no good, you are ugly and that no one is ever going to want you. Fear rules you when you are treated like scum – a piece of old gum stuck on the sole of someone’s shoe. You forget who you really are and the things you used to dream about accomplishing. You forget about hope and start to believe all the lies you are told and the real you crumbles into pieces. And while you are down at your lowest, the same people who hate on you start to put you back together with hate, but the pieces are mismatched and it is impossible for you to ever become whole again. You are now like a wall full of cracks, waiting for the final wrecking ball’s blow that will allow you to fall apart and never recover. It makes you weak. It makes you stay. It’s all you know… but now fear can kiss my ass. I will submit to it no more. I feel the resolve fill my body as I make this promise to myself: From now on I will seek fear and conquer it. Never again will I fall prey to its tangles. I refuse to give in. I refuse to live scared.

  Walking into the rinky-dinky motel, I am able to secure a room. The attendant doesn’t ask many questions. Actually, he doesn’t even look up. I notice the faded chipped pink counter and read the prices listed on a small flyer taped onto the counter. There is a lot to be said about a place that charges by the hour. Immediately, I say a silent prayer for the mattress to be clean and the room to be bed bug free. I’m thinking I may have to sleep fully clothed.

  Leaving the office I notice someone dealing by the dumpster, which confirms my suspicions about the place. This is not a very safe area. I hurry to the room, keeping my nose down to avoid “seeing” anything. I unlock the door and push it open when the smell of smoke hits my nose like a ton of bricks. One would think that after being exposed to that smell on a daily basis for-freaking-ever, that one would be used to it by now. Well, One.Is.Not.

  The room has seen better days, but I didn’t expect much of it, really, it would have been silly of me. It has the basics: a full size bed, a TV, small refrigerator, a microwave resting on top of the fridge, one lonely window covered by old dark drapes and an air conditioner unit below the window.

  Stepping into the room, I place my backpack on the bed. With one swift motion I take off the hat and the wig I was wearing, relieving my itchy scalp. After removing all the hair pins, my long brown hair spills down all over my shoulders and my back, like running water. I take off my oversized clothes and stand there in my boy shorts and tank top. Turning the clock radio on, someone is belting out a song about freedom and new beginnings, and I think how fitting for this moment, I can’t help myself as I’m listening to the beat I break out into a happy dance.

  Later, I feel relaxed after a hot shower and clean clothes that are not ill fitting. The TV is on and I’m randomly changing the channels. It feels weird being on my own, as if I’m a little lost. I guess when life is planned for you day in and day out, you lose your decision making abilities. I only have enough money to cover the motel for a few weeks and then I will be on the streets.

  “You will never amount to anything!”

  That damned voice again. Years of being a victim of hate will continue to play inside your head even if you are long gone and far away from that situation. It’s hard to believe that I was able to escape from a sadistic mother, only to unwillingly fall prey to a sadistic motherfucker like him. I would much rather be disemboweled while alive and breathing, than to ever let anyone have that power over me again. I allow myself a moment to feel sad and lonely. I don’t dwell on it long. I have survived this far and will continue to do so. I can’t afford to trust anyone. The friends I left behind are better not knowing what happened and it is better for me to keep it that way.

  As I am deep in my thoughts trying to ignore the memories that keep oozing out of the vault inside my head, I remind myself that I have options. Life will get in the way, but I have the power to decide how to handle MY life, and I choose to survive. I choose to be happy.

  In that moment, I hear it. A commercial on TV. Not any random commercial, but what is about to become my lifeline.

  “There is strong, and there is ARMY Strong.” The narrator says.

  Wow! A light bulb turns on inside my head. The United States Army. The idea keeps playing in my head. I can join and they provide room, food, training, and financial help for school. All this and I get a paycheck! If I get lucky enough I could even be assigned at a far away post, perhaps in another country. I roll off the bed and open the nightstand drawer pulling out the phonebook at the same time. I quickly locate the telephone number and address of the nearest recruiting office. I jot it down on a piece of paper and place it inside my backpack. Since it is still early in the afternoon, I call a taxi and get ready to go. For once in my life, I know exactly what I need to do.

  Chapter 2

  Colton (3 years later)

  “Hey doofus, stop throwing like a sissy and put some arm behind that ball!” I yell at my best friend Traxx. It is a nice day on campus. We got here yesterday and I was glad to get away from all the family drama. I don’t think I will be going back anytime soon. My birthday was two weeks ago – the big 21 – and my trust fund has kicked in. If I don’t blow it, I will be just fine. I am done with my parents trying to run my life and telling me what to do, who I need to hang out with, or not hang out with, who to date, what to study. Done!

  “I’m ready. Anytime now, Colton!” Traxx is trying to get my attention and I realize the football is in my hand.

  “You know, Traxx, I actually don’t feel like doing this. Let’s go get some food.”

  “In that case” Traxx says, “I gotta go by the house first to change into a clean shirt. Sweaty pits makes for a not so attractive quality for the girls, if you know what I mean.” He winks at me with a naughty smile.

  Traxx Maxwell became my best friend when we were 10 years old and he caught me breaking the glass to one of the school’s fire alarms and pulling the knob just as he was coming around the corner. We looked at each other and took off running together, hiding outside behind the bushes stifling our giggles until everyone was outside, too, and we could blend back in with our classes. We have been inseparable since then.

  “You are always thinking about scoring, you are such a man whore!”

  “I am NOT a whore!” Traxx fakes disgust. “I’m just someone who loves to try free samples. If a girl wants to give it away, who am I to deny her?” A smile breaks across his face.

  “Good thing you believe in using condoms or one day your dick would break out with some nasty warts and fall off.” I smile back at him. “I don’t have a problem with you sampling… ‘goods’… but don’t try to shove your ho-hos my way. I can get my own sampling. I’m just a tiny bit more particular about what I wrap around my dick. I want to be one hundred percent put together when we graduate. I don’t want to have to carry my junk inside a pickle jar.”

  “Ha, ha. Really funny dorkface!” he smacks my arm. “It is not my fault that you only crave a certain type. You really need to broaden your horizons because pretty girls who don’t want to run your life are quite hard to find.�
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  “Not as hard as you think. I get plenty.” I said.

  “All girls end up trying to run your life.”

  “That’s when I break it off. I have been dealing all my life with my parents trying to tell me what to do, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some girl do the same shit. I will never commit to a girl like that. On a second thought, I will never commit to a girl. Period.” I find myself getting a bit upset at the thought of living my life dependent on a girl’s approval. Hell no! I get plenty of offers and go out with any girl I want. I’m just choosier than Traxx because I actually like to have “a conversation before the bedroom.” During and after, they always want to please me and they think their sex is better than any other sex I’ve had. Wrong! It’s all pretty much the same. And, I enjoy the shit out of it while it’s happening and I let go the moment is over. It never fails. They always think they are the one to tame me. That I will call them back. Newsflash: I can’t nor want to be tamed.

  Traxx looks at me and says “Whatever makes you happy. I’m just saying maybe you are putting too much into it. You need to be more like me: Give them one night that they will never forget and don’t double dip.”

  “Traxx you are such a class act…” We look at each other and start laughing.

  Just as we are about to cross the street, we hear this roar – a motorcycle. We stop to let the guy go by. It’s a nice black and white sports bike. I’m getting ready to look at the make and model when it slows down as it passes in front of us, and I realize that there’s no way in hell this is a guy. The rider’s chest is the size of a couple of grapefruits, followed by an impossibly small waist and the nicest ass I have seen in a while.