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Piccadilly Circus was very quiet at this time of night, and I blessed the late hour. I'd stopped at the local police station to let them know I wasn't missing; I was leaving home because of an abusive environment, and I didn't want my parents or any of my family coming after me and trying to drag me back home. I'd also emailed my teachers using a 24 hour internet cafe, explaining the situation in detail; my teachers had been very supportive of me, and I knew they'd make sure my parents couldn't use the education system against me. I was almost seventeen, after all, and able to make decisions for myself without parental approval. Not to mention I'd gained a lot of support from ordinary folk despite my parents' best efforts to isolate me from the outside world, and I knew word would spread.
As for me, I was bound for King's Cross St Pancras, and from there, I'd find my way to Preston, one way or another. Even if I had to hitchhike, I'd get there. Preston was safety, to me, and until I got to Aunt Prue's house, I'd be looking over my shoulder the entire way.
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Of course, there was no way I could get a train at this hour of the night, so I was forced to use my meagre funds for a motel room for the night. The lone staff member manning the desk did raise an eyebrow, but she kept her questions to herself and waived the standard fee, seeing as it was so late, and I'd only be sleeping for a few hours.
Instead of sleeping, however, I asked if I could use the pool, and she unlocked the gate for me after promising me my room would remain locked until I was ready to snatch a couple of hours' shut eye. I thanked her and let out a sigh of relief when she was gone. She didn't look the type to rat on me; I suspected it was because I was quite tired that I was eyeballing her. I made a note to apologise in the morning. 108Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrjSWd2Z6VK
The water was cold, but it was just the thing to perk me up, and I let out a sigh as I relaxed, floating on my back and looking up at the moon. Late night city lights did dim it a bit, but it was a wonderful sight, and I found a smile on my face as I took a deep breath and sank underwater, letting out most of the air in my lungs so I could go right to the bottom. It was very still and very dark, and for the first time in a long while, I felt at peace.
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I floated until I was almost out of air, and, lungs burning, I swam back up to the surface, only to take another deep breath before going under again. This was, to me, a way of cleansing - being able to enjoy myself underwater without fearing what waited for me on the surface. I could swim, dive, float, rise and sink, all without a care in the world, taking it moment by moment, swimming deep underwater until I was almost out of air, rising to the surface, taking another deep breath, and going under again.
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It was very, very late by the time I climbed out of the pool, and though I was wet, cold and tired, I'd never felt more alive than I did as I padded my sodden way into the foyer and asked for the key to my room. I had only a couple of hours' sleep ahead of me, but the staff member handed the key over without complaint, and once I'd locked the door behind me, I peeled off my sodden clothes and collapsed onto the bed with a contented sigh. My extended submersion had done wonders for my mind as well as my body, and I had no nightmares to trouble my brief slumber.
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The next morning - or rather, later that morning, I hurried to the ticket window at St Pancras International, and before long, I had a ticket to Preston in my hand. Or rather, a ticket to Nottingham. I didn't have enough for a ticket all the way to Preston, and I was still a bit worried my parents might raise a hue and cry despite all my precautions. So I did the smart thing and took the train as far as Nottingham.
When I arrived in Nottingham, I sat down on a bench and pondered my options. I had a bank account, but it was in my parents' name, and I had no way of getting access to it without their knowledge. However, a passer by who heard me muttering to myself had a helpful suggestion; I was almost seventeen, and I had all my identity documents. I could, they told me, go to the bank, open a new account in my name, and transfer the funds from the old account to the new one. My parents would know, of course, but the new bank account I opened for myself would be safe from their tampering, since I'd be the only one who knew about it.
Armed with this knowledge, I took myself off to the nearest bank, and once I'd explained the situation, the bank manager personally assisted me in getting my new account opened. He also helped me get the money from my old account, and pulled some strings so I could issued with a newly activated card. It helped he was a half-werewolf on his mother's side, so he knew all about abusive parents.
Even so, as I left the bank, card in hand, I knew it wouldn't all go swimmingly. But I now had the means to go wherever I wished, even to Preston if I so desired. Aunt Prue would do all she could to keep me safe, but I didn't dare go there. It wasn't that I didn't want to go to the one safe haven I knew existed, but my parents would be furious, and would likely be raising the entire countryside in search of me. And if they'd bound themselves to the Golden Swallow coven, they'd be unstoppable. Aaron and Patience were now doubt married and likely would have a child on the way; my parents would doubtless use my little niece or nephew as a weapon, and I felt sad that any offspring of Patience's would be used in such a manner. But Patience was so eager to please that she'd fall in line with whatever my parents commanded, and I shivered as I got in line to get a ticket that was as far away from Preston as you could get.
And I had the perfect destination in mind.
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