She huddled in the corner of her seat and clutched the tattered photograph to her chest. Not wanting to let go of the last memory she had of them, she ignored the tears that flowed down her cheeks. She didn’t care that her makeup was ruined. All she focused on was the photo. Not even the smell of vomit coming from the front of the bus could bring her thoughts back to reality.
The vinyl of the seat stuck to her legs and the glass of the window sent waves of cold through her arm that she ignored. She didn’t move a muscle when a woman carrying a child came and sat beside her. In fact, all the appearance of the woman seemed to do was make the tears flow faster.
She pushed a sob down and fought to keep it from rising again. The little boy sitting on his mothers’ knee looked like her little Joshy. With his perfectly brushed hair, blue eyes like the ocean and red fire engine shirt, she wanted to scoop him up, hold him close and call him Joshy. She wanted to take him back to the little cottage by the beach, make him pancakes and watch him frolicking in the yard with his little black puppy he simply called pup.
She had been on this bus for ten hours already. Only another two more hours and she’d be free.
She brought the photo to eye level and stared through teary eyes at the little boy she had called her son for four happy, beautiful years and the man who stole her heart at the age of eighteen.
They had met at a party. In a crowded room where bodies pressed against each other, music thumped through unseen speakers and smells of alcohol, sex and vomit mingled to form a putrid stench which had her stomach doing cartwheels. She didn’t even want to be at the party, but was forced to come by her best friend Sadie.
She wouldn’t let those memories trouble her now, she would focus on starting her new life, in a new town alone. She would remember her little Joshy, and the one who stole her heart.