Tuesday, November 7, 2017

badlands - meeting holly

She showed up to the counter looking weary as ever. I was just about to leave when she asked, “Can you buy me a soda, please? I don’t have anything on me and I haven’t eaten properly for weeks.”

I looked her up and down. She was wearing a prim, crisp white blouse, but her hair was messy and her expression was frantic and bedraggled. I dug around in my pocket for some coins and came up with some money.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ve got you.”

I paid for her soda and we sat there waiting. Finally I broke the silence by saying, “How’d you come here?”

She let out a long sigh, and then said in a soft, charming Southern accent, “I left ‘im.”

Him? “Who?”

“The person I was seeing. My boyfriend. I finally left him because I just couldn’t take it anymore.” She looked to be on the verge of tears. “I don’t realize why it took me so long. But we were just on the road for such a long time. We couldn’t properly eat or bathe. And we were always on the run from—from everyone. From the cops and the bounty hunters.  I was tired of it.”

She got her soda and slurped it ravenously, downing it in less than a minute. When she was done, I asked, “Why did you go with him?”

She wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “Because he killed my dad. And I thought I had no choice but to go with him. I felt a special connection—like we were tied together or something.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if that was the right decision. I shoulda stayed with my dad. I shouldn’t have gone with Kit. I loved how we traveled and saw the land but—but then he started killing whoever we crossed paths with and I couldn’t take it anymore.” She put her head in her hands. “He’s going to be mad at me, isn’t he? They’re all going to be mad at me, the whole lot of them. Police and all. It’s all my fault.”

“No,” I said forcefully. “None of this is your fault.”

She said, softly, “It is. But I had no choice. I had to follow him.”

What’s your name?”

“Holly.”

“Holly, how old are you?”

“Fifteen.”


She was fifteen years old, this Holly. She was younger than me; powerless, an outlaw and an orphan, her life irrevocably changed by the man in her life.

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