Tales of the Many: by Nicole M (first color ebook reader .TXT) 📖

a bar of soap. And was on her way once more. She was walking on the side of the road when a horn sounded behind her. A semi was pulling over. A man gestured for her to enter the truck, and so a sweaty Lilly couldn't do much more but comply.
"Thanks" she sighed as the cool air struck her face.
"No problem, Miss. What's a girl like you doing walking around on the side of an interstate?"
"I've just, got some business is all. It's not really anyone's business."
"That, it's not. I won't question it." He was quiet for a minute or two. He lied, "You running away, Miss? You can't be older than 17."
"My age doesn't matter. What's it to you if I'm running away or not?" She played defensively.
"You're too young for this kind of thing, you know?" He pestered.
"I'm old enough to know what I'm doing."
"Fair enough, if you think you're so tough and smart.. Now, I've helped a few like you in my lifetime. I'm not one to fool around with people's wishes, and I'm no pervert either. So, where are you heading Miss?"
Lilly hadn't thought about where she might be going, but to avoid looking like a moron, who doesn't know what she's doing, she blurted out "Las Vegas".
"Vegas? Wow, dream big. Watch out for the whores and drugs, kid. Lots of underage girls like you are into prostitution, and a number of them are on drugs like heroin."
"Whatever. You said you wouldn't mess with what I want, and I want to go to Vegas." Lilly huffed.
"Whoa whoa whoa, hold it Miss. I said I wouldn't screw with your plans, but that doesn't mean I'm taking you to Vegas."
"Then where are you taking me?"
"I can take you a ways, but I can't afford to go to Vegas. Stay here for the night. I've got a bed in the back of here, you can rest here, and I'll just sleep up here. Tomorrow night though, you need to skedaddle on out of here. I'll drop you off at a rest stop. Sound okay?" and Lilly nodded.
The rest of the day went by based around small talk. The two grabbed dinner from a diner. Though he had to bring her food, considering truck drivers aren't supposed to smuggle anyone anywhere. And when night came, she curled up on the small but decent mattress. The man was passed out in the front seat. The semi on the side of the road. He snored softly. Lilly was restless, pulled out a flashlight she had packed into her bag and looked around the back of the truck. Books about philosophy, records, canned food for emergencies, towels, magazines, water in a jug, deodorant. Normal stuff. Except for a piece of paper jammed between two books she had spotted. Without making noise Lilly slipped the piece of paper out, and glared the light on it: MISSING: CHARLES JAMES MCIVY. HAIR: BLONDE. EYE: BROWN. HEIGHT: 6'. WEIGHT: 160LBS. AGE: 17. LAST SEEN: LEAVING FOR SCHOOL MONDAY MORNING. IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION PLEASE CONTACT THE NUMBER LISTED BELOW.
Lilly was confused. She fell asleep in confusion and dreamed about chocolate milkshakes and burgers.
When she rose the next morning, the driver had already been well off driving for a long while and the sun was nearly blinding. She spent the day in the back, humming along to the music in the truck, until nightfall came, and it was time to take her leave.
"Good luck out there, Miss." The driver said to her through the open passenger door. "It's a little overwhelming out there. There are a lot of crazy people."
"I know who you are. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about, either. You ran away too when you were a teenager. I saw a flyer."
"That's all in the past, Miss. Nearly, I'm not the same man I was. Nevertheless, I hope you find what you're searching for."
She closed the door, and he was driving away, and she started for the inside of the rest area, seeing a bench inside where she could sleep.
She fell asleep wondering where she was going to go, dreamed of what would become of her, would she return home? Find whatever it was she was searching for?
Only who knows who she is now?
The Hint of Recovery: A Creative Essay For A Contest

Outside? What is outside? It is dark here, where I am. Always am. Which is where? Where am I exactly? I couldn’t possibly be in my bedroom. In my home. This is not a home. It’s a house, but not a home. And here I lay, staring up at the nonentity that is my life. All traces of felicity and vivacity gone with the smile I last wore years ago. Doctor, what should we do? Nothing. The last thing we want is to subject this innocent child to pills. Early in the morning I arrive to the highlight of my empty days- class, and am surrounded by modern insomniacs. Am I one? Or is it just the depression? Doesn't matter, I still look dead as the rest. I am detached from this world. I cry, I sink. I am spinning. Falling deeper into my own misery. I feel the silence around me, and it screams- I lack perfection. What if I let myself go? Who would be at fault? Is it me? Or the population? Ignoring my cries for help. Recovery? I could try. On my own? I’m not sure. Then there’s you. A perfect body, perfect smile, perfect soul, everything- my perfection. Standing on the outside, staring in at me, reaching out to me- recovery. Terrified, I’m ready to try. Exhausted, I weakly open the door to the world of recovery. So many possibilities, and then there’s you. The sun is blinding.

Stranger Part II

It's a cold, wet night during the winter in a small Floridian town near Orlando. One of the few times it is actually cold in the winter. In this part of Florida, it's almost never cold.
I am a man of 40. Getting older and older. Almost a year ago I grew sick of feeling old. I guess you could call it a mid-life crisis. That's what that is right? Anyway, I decided "screw the family! Screw it all. I need to live while I still can", and I left. I walked away from my wife, two kids, my friends, and I left. I went to Vegas. Always heard it's amazing there. Glamorous, in a way. It wasn't. I ran out of money a month or two ago. Blew it all on prostitutes. And quite a few lap dances from girls at the strips. It's amazing what a girl'll do for good money. I tried to find a job, but no one wants a man going on 40. Unless you're an escort for gay prostitutes. Can you believe people actually pay for that shit? Me- Almost stooping down to gay prostitution. No way. I walked from that one. Screw Vegas. I miss my family. My friends. I don't know why I ever decided coming to Vegas would be a good idea.
My family lives in Zephyrhills. Right now I'm passing through a small town called Plant City. It's small. And there are a lot of Hispanics. And rednecks. It's 10:30 PM. Not many places are open, and it's cold out- I need to take a break. I don't have a car, or a ride. I've been walking this entire time, and hitchhiking.
There's a Starbucks, and it's open. I don't really care for their coffee, but it's open, and not as cold inside. Okay. I'm going to go in.
It's not very crowded. One person is on shift. Another worker is sitting at a small table with a water, and his phone. Near a corner sits an elderly couple, with coffee I assume. At the larger square table, by the window, sit college students, three males and a female, with a computer, on a website that looks as though she is writing a book. I can barely make out the title of the chapter. It says "Phoebe". Interesting.
The girl behind the counter speaks out to me,
"Excuse me, sir. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, bread?"
I refuse. Just trying to get away from the cold. Thanks anyway. That's what I want to say, but instead I just shake my head. Ashamed that I, of all people, are here before all of these lovely people. I am pathetic, given how I have spent the past year intoxicated by drugs and sex.
Twenty minutes pass, and I'm reading signs on the wall, there are six and in different colors. They say different facts about different places. Like, one says "Costa Rica", it's in green. And it gives lists of Volcanoes to visit and enthusiastic reviews on them with underlining and italics about how amazing the scenery is. Like, how weird is that?
It's been nearly an hour since I've stepped in. I haven't said a word, I just sit silently on a couch by the wall, under the pictures. The elderly couple has left. The college kids as they were, laughing. And the girl still types ferociously at her keyboard.
The worker sitting turned to me.
"Are you going to order anything while you're here?" He asks.
"No, I'm just passing through, sitting a while before I'm off again. Say, could you maybe give me a lift?" It's worth a shot. The lad looks, maybe 20? Young and free to do what he likes.
"I'm about to start my shift actually, if you're still here when I get off, then sure, I can take you."
Sweet. I have a ride.
It's weird. These people here, with their own pasts, and futures, and lives. I wonder what each of them has gone through. Where they've come