I wake up, feeling like utter shit. I take myself to the bathroom to pour myself a glass of water. I down it and pour myself another from the sink. It's nice to wake up without wondering what's going on outside my room. Solitude is nice. I haven't really had a chance to process everything.
Processing is boring. I spend all day in the motel room, thinking and processing. Bleh. I never want to think again.
I left a key on your nightstand. I hear her voice again, loud and clear. What could the key be for? I look to the nightstand and see a key fob for a car. A car? It's like she reads my mind.
Thank you. I'm not sure if she hears me.
You're most welcome. I feel almost disturbed that she can hear me and I can hear her.
I collect my things and grab the car key. I leave a wad of cash on the table for the mini bar charge. Hopefully $100 will cover it.
I press the unlock button and see my car in the lot. It's a red car, cute and stylish.
I hit the road, unsure of where I'm going. I miss my old car. I become hypnotized by the highway after just an hour. My eyes get heavy and I feel exhaustion overcome me. I see the lights behind me, red, white, and blue. Damnit. Damnit. Damnit. I don't even have a license that isn't fake. I don't have a registration or car insurance. I pull the car over to the side of the road and await whatever is going to happen next. A cop approaches my window and knocks a few times. I roll down the window to see a woman, brown and short hair, standing with authority. Her flash light shines in my eyes.
  "License and registration." I reach for the glove compartment and shuffle around with her flashlight lighting my vision. I pull some papers out. Amazingly, there's an ID, a copy of insurance, and a title with my name on it. I hand it to her, surprised that I even have it.
  "Let me run the name through the system. I'm writing you a ticket for failure to maintain lanes. Have you been drinking?"
She looks closely at my eyes.
  "No. No I haven't been drinking. I'm just tired. I'll find somewhere to sleep, scout's honor."
  "I'll be back." She takes what I handed her to her car.
  I wait, in silence, staring at the moon.
  "Alright." She taps the top of my car. "You're good to go. Get some sleep." She hands me the papers and ID I gave her.
That was a close one.
Unfortunately, I'm itching for the warm buzz of alcohol. I want to spend my last night as a witch celebrating. Tomorrow, I'll summon Baphomet to take me away. I'll finally be relieved of this burden. Tonight, I'll drink.
I pull up to this less than fancy looking bar. I see a couple of young girls stumbling out and laughing. To be young and carefree... Stop being so dramatic Elizabeth.
Taking the keys out of the ignition and a stack of cash, I get ready for the night. I like the clothes Baphomet gave me. I'm wearing this red little blouse, with ruffled sleeves. It's form fitting, high waisted skinny jeans, and my same old converse. It's probably time for a haircut but my hair flows in the wind.
I enter the bar and I don't feel like anyone is staring at me. I feel invisible and it's peaceful, as long as I'm not invisible to the bartender. I reach the bar and lean against it. I decide, after a few minutes of waiting, to take a seat.
"What'll it be?" A woman, who sounds like she smokes 3 packs a day, greets me. She isn't cheerful, but I guess I wouldn't be either. No judgement here.
"Double whiskey and coke." I slide her some cash.
"Kid, what kind of whiskey?"
I look at the array of bottles that she motions to.
"Jack." A couple minutes later, she serves me up the best tasting beverage that I've had in a while. The music begins to intensify and the periodic sound of pool balls soothes me. I order another and another and another. Soon, I feel like the room is spinning. I get this warm twisty feeling in my stomach. I order some pretzels, to try to avoid vomiting. A man sits by me. At first, he seems uninterested. He just orders a beer. A couple minutes pass and gets up the courage to say something.
He's a muscular looking man. He has scruff on his face and appears to take good care of his hygiene. I hope he's not going to hit on me because he looks old enough to be my dad.
"Can I buy you a shot?" He seems harmless. He gives me the feeling of a pastel blue and green.
"Yeah."
"They make this amazing apple pie shot. You can't buy it in the store. It's deliciously dangerous. It's ever clear and whatever magic ingredient they use to make it taste just like apple pie." He smiles at me.
"So you're a regular here?" He calls the bartender over while I ask.
"Yeah, I am. I'm not some sloppy drunk though. I'm not always drinking the hard stuff." He seems easy going enough.
He's pretty attractive... Stop it, Elizabeth. It's the alcohol talking. And the loneliness.
"You're going to love it." He hands the shot to me. He taps his against mine and we take it together.
"That does taste like apple pie!" I laugh excitedly.
"Can we have a few more?" I eagerly ask.
"You're a grown woman. You can have as much as you want." I order 4 more, feeling overzealous. I give him two of them and keep two for myself. After we take them, I know I've taken one shot too much. I order a big fat glass of water.
"Keep eating the pretzels." He tries to help me feel better.
That cop from earlier comes in, taking a seat in the back of the bar.