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RUNNING IN HEELS
SERAPHINE
Rails along the road keep my car from plummeting into the roaring waters below. The cliffside town of Crimson Falls lies under what I hope aren’t constant clouds. Saltwater spray beats the cliff face smooth below.
My tires wind along the rocky, well-worn roads, my eyes constantly watching ahead for any new change in terrain, all while my hands grip the steering wheel, nerves pelting my insides like buckshot.
“I’ve got this. This is what I need,” I tell myself aloud, feeling a little silly, but needing the boost of confidence.
My life has always been a roller coaster of hardships, and this will be nothing more than one more hurdle to conquer. Part of the reason I wound up in this small town on the New England coast is because of everything I’ve overcome and the scars I now bear.
I secured a job at Valdrich Industries in their front office. From what I could find online, they’re a financial conglomerate with their hands in a lot of pies, but that didn’t matter to me. The pay was competitive, but they’re the only ones who reached out.
The city was stifling me, cutting off the oxygen in my lungs, and the only way to survive was to run. Typically, I’d sit with my therapist and try to unravel the dark shit haunting me day in and day out, which makes the overabundance of people around me difficult to deal with. A couple of weeks ago, I reached a point where I just got tired of fighting.
Sick of trying to stay afloat in the thick waters I was wading in.
Now, here I am, pulling up to the small inn, covered in what used to be white paint, on the side of the main highway leading into town, staring at the swinging sign like it’s my beacon of safety.
I’m home.
The Mockingbird Inn looked a lot more upscale online, but if I had to guess, the photos were outdated for that very reason.
The paint is peeling from the excessive salt in the air, and the windows have a thick film that could use cleaning. However, the Mockingbird Inn looks to me like the lighthouse beam, calling me home like a lost sailor.
Hopefully, this is just temporary, even the job I’m headed for. I’ve always wanted to write.
Even though I’ve never tried my hand at it, it’s been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember. I couldn’t get out of my own way before.
This new chapter will change everything.
It has to.
Because I can’t drown anymore.
I get out of the car, grabbing a couple of my bags from the backseat since the trunk won’t open.
The cold, salty wind wraps around me, welcoming me home.
Nonsensically, I close my eyes and let it envelop me.
“Come in out of that cold! You’ll catch your death!” a woman’s voice calls through my peace, shattering it.
I open my eyes and lock onto an older woman’s face, studying it before plastering a smile on mine.
Trudging forward, I hurry inside.
She slams the door, shutting out the roaring sounds of Crimson Falls, leaving a ringing in my ears.
“You must be Seraphine?”
“Sera, please.”
She smiles, pushing up her purple glasses on her nose. “Sera. I’m Kathy. I run the Mockingbird Inn. I think we spoke on the phone?”
“We did. It’s nice to meet you, formally.” I hold my hand over the counter, and she shakes it.
