2
Sarah
I look out the bus window, my sense of excitement at war with my nerves. Everything is the same color here, beige that has cooked under the sun for millennia. All the houses and businesses here are short and squat and same-looking. Considering where I’m running from, the most vibrant part of downtown LA, Las Vegas is unimpressive so far.
It’s been a relatively short bus ride here. Just four hours. Four hours of peace, without Martin’s voice harassing me to do things differently. Saying that if I had any sense, I would stick close to him and never look back.
Look how well that turned out.
Tasting something bitter in the back of my throat, I take a sip of water from a plastic bottle. Then I double check my makeup in a compact I have handy. It looks good, except for the greenish
