The small cafe was silent and eerie. 

The lone waitress wandered over to the table at which two opposing individuals occupied, seeming to be awaiting her return. She offered them beverages, but only the man with his uncanny smile responded, ordering a coffee for the maiden and another for himself. Neither of them were to touch the cups more than a finger across the glass, never allowing anything to pass their lips but words and breaths. 

“Do you ever smile?” the young man asked, his eyes searching for an answer. Her head was not upright, nor her attention on him, but all the while, he was certain that she was wary of him, listening tentatively as he spoke. 

“Occasionally,” she answered. 

The girl, no more than sixteen years of age, was tense in her booth, her hands around the cup as her fingers studied the patterns of the cafe's logo plastered upon it. She was frightened, he saw, by the vein throbbing in her forehead. She searched for answers, but did not hold the questions – he cocked his head and leaned in gingerly at the thought of this. “There is something you wish to find,” he noted. A statement. Not at all a question.

Her eyes flickered. 

Hope. Desperation. Longing. 

Shuffling through his pockets, revealing a pen and a crumpled receipt, the young man pressed it out, scrawling an address on it. He was reluctant in giving it to her, but only for a moment, sliding it over to her in one suave motion. With his eyes fixed solely on Ari, he payed the bill of the two neglected cups of coffee, and stood, towering over the girl. 

“Goodbye, Adriana,” he said at last, “I hope to be seeing you in the near future.” 

It had not occurred to her until moments after he'd left the cafe that she hadn't once mentioned her name. 

[center]_[/center]

Dusk had fallen over the small town, and Ari was several blocks from any sort of motel. 

The man hadn't mentioned his name, but the paper he'd given her revealed it to be Charles. He'd left her an address – a place in New York, about two hours north from here. She felt for the paper, finding it to be where she'd last put it (her right pants pocket), and sighed purely out of relief. While she was skeptical of this man, it was but her only chance to possible understanding. 

Something she so eagerly needed. 

Spotting what appeared to be some sort of resting place up ahead, Ari picked up her pace, wanting nothing more than to rest for a few hours and hail some sort of ride in the early morning. Unfortunately, a few gentlemen behind her prevented Ari from arriving at the motel without any form of distress to keep her up at night. 

“Sweetheart!” one of them howled, so terribly intoxicated. “Wait up!”

The others hollered in agreement. 

Ari made the cliché decision of ignoring them, managing to bring herself to a comfortable jog. Once hearing them beginning to stumble fairly close behind her, Ari did not hesitate to sprint. She was no match against any sort of man in a healthy state of mind, but these men were drunk beyond belief. Their feet could not carry them to her, and when a thought of doubt crossed her mind, a boy made but a single wrong movement and fell to his defeat, taking down another with him. 

They shouted vulgar things after her, but she made no efforts to tune in, racing to the motel – not bothering to slow down until she was already safely indoors. 

Coming about an elderly woman at the counter, Ari rummaged in her pocket for two of the six bills Charles had given her, slamming it down on the table in an attempt to subtly ask for a room. The woman did not question her, but instead, fished the register for exact change and handed her a room key. Ari seemed to be one of the only occupants in this motel, for from what she'd seen at the desk, only three keys had been taken. Including hers. Not that she cared much. Less people meant she wouldn't be disturbed whilst sleeping. 

Ari shuffled into the compact little room and did with it what she could. She made sure all of the locks on the door were secure and immediately headed for the bathroom. Shrugging off her clothes, she stepped into the warmth, taking it in as if this was the last hot shower she'd be given. It very well could be. 

She remained in the shower for what could've been hours. She'd lost track of time after collapsing to the floor and sobbing as the rhythmic pit-pat of the water soothed her aching soul. She missed her father, despite all of his years of evading her. She missed her bedroom, and even what little friends she'd had among the patients. Perhaps she'd considered returning on one hand, but the other brought forth the idea of evidence. The woman who'd spotted her eyes had video footage to back her up, and multiple others who'd witnessed it as well. 

As much as she'd like to think she'd be okay, she knew that she wouldn't. There was no way in hell she could go back. 

Ari hadn't ever felt so completely and utterly alone before this. 

Draping a towel over her shoulders, Ari climbed out of the tub and pulled her shirt and underwear back on. The girl had taken shelter in the queen bed around one o'clock in the early morning, underneath layers of blankets where reality couldn't find her, refusing to come out until it was all but necessary.