Emily kept listening to her cell buzz through to Rosco. It kept going and going and wouldn't his voice mail even pick up?
She paced her room. There was a chill but she wouldn't let herself be involved with it. It was as if she was really far away from this place and if Rosco picked up she might come back. She might.
Was it the holidays that did this to her? She didn't even remember what she got for Christmas last year. Why couldn't she? It was this fog of thought, and she knew now she wanted to forget things. She did.
Emily shut off her cell then and squinted her eyes tight. Its coming. Rushing back like a wave of disseaster in her head. Old thoughts. Bad thoughts. There was someone. A friend of the family. A babysitter. No. No it was that high school boy she so wanted to sit next to on the school bus, but never could because she was all of six and...and she wasn't suppose to. But she did. Finally. And it wasn't all bad. It wasn't. Not in the beginning. Not really. Not when he carried her on his shoulders to watch the basketball game. She didn't remember telling her mother about that. But there were a lot of things he told her not to tell. There were secrets.
She drew in a breath then. She looked around her room. It was neat and tidy. Not a thing out of place. There were two things she could do. There were razors in the bathroom. Fresh ones, too.
Emily looked herself in the mirror. Did she really want all that drama this Christmas? Really? No, this would be a good thing to do. She grabbed the razors and put them in her bag. A last resort, perhaps. Then she crammed underwear in her bag, as well. A few T-shirts, and Rosco's shirt too. Her flannel plaid pants. She smiled. Then checked her wallet.emily just got paid. It was all there. The money. She'd saved every bit of it. She was sure they really didn't need her at work. They were cutting back hours. She felt bad about not giving anyone a hairstyle there. But it just wasn't the right time. No matter how hard she tried, it just wasn't right. Even if she had plans with the beauty school. They'd tell her she was too slow. It was all wrong. Something. It just made her feel more sad.
Why hadn't Rosco picked up his damn cell, she thought then. It didn't really matter, she was taking the next bus to Omaha.