Melinda Rogers

Her Journey

She opens her eyes and sees the sun bright through the broken boards of the attic, sitting up basking in the warmth for a few minutes before looking around and gathering her stuff. Now she inhales the rotting wood smell mixed with old cobwebs and rodent waste. She becomes aware of her reality. It has been a decade since everything happened, three years since she lost her mother, and a little less than two years since her dad either left or could not make it back. She did her routine of checking supplies and realized that she would need to make a run. Without planning, it would have to be solo. This sometimes could be favorable, but it was better not to overthink. Getting a list together, she knows alone she must consider weight and movement. She wishes she had time to plan to go to the camp and do this properly but going to camp, in itself, needed favors. This attic, this life, alone is better than camp and those greasy smells and the creepy treatment of "I will protect you, hun." No, alone is always better, and don't ever get caught two, rules she has to live by.