Rain sluiced down the windows and the doors and seeped under the doorframe across the floor toward her bare feet. Cherry looked around. She was in that room again. The one where she woke up.
Why was it raining again?
The sudden sound of screeching tires over the road's surface drew her attention, but instead of the room's walls, she stood on the edge of the road, watching a car skid to the shoulder. Tail lights further down the road turned red, and the car reversed. Quickly. Heading for her, screaming, she tried to push away from the inevitable crushing metal death trap.
Gasping, she sat up, panting, looking around. She located the sound of rain hitting her bedroom window. Closing her eyes, she inhaled and reopened them looking around.
"You're in your bedroom," Cherry whispered, "you need to get a grip ..." she shuddered, swiping her hands over her tear-streaked cheeks, "every time ..." she muttered, pushing out of bed, "you cry every time you have that dream."
Walking in the dark, the lights automatically switched on as she made her way to the bathroom. Cherry sighed, running cold water into her cupped hands and splashing her face.
"Turn the tap off," she muttered, leaning on the basin's rim, "drain the water."
Blindly Cherry watched the tap stop running and the water drain away. She lived in a new, fully automated house, like a rich person you saw on TV, but she didn't feel like a rich person and didn't know how that was supposed to feel.
Memories of happy days and nights spent with her parents flashed through her memory, and a sad smile formed on the lips of the face staring back at her in the mirror. Game nights around the coffee table at home. Trivia night at the local bar or drives into the mountains where they hiked, did rock climbing and canoeing, lit a fire in the cabin and talked into the early hours of the next day. Rarely did any of them sleep on those trips. They would nap under the sun's heat, surrounded by flowers in a meadow or the coolness of the waterfall dropping into a pool. They would swim as well, surrounded by beautiful flowers, views and birds of all types. She wanted that again. Just one more time before she sold it, it had been five years, and she needed to move forward ... move on. Something inside had hoped they were not dead just as she was not dead, but how could it be as she wished it ... now after all this time.
Walking through her bedroom into the spacious closet, she pulled her old gym bag from the top shelf, tossing some jeans, t-shirts and undergarments. A pair of boots followed by pairs of socks. Zipping it up, she moved toward the opposite end, meaning to put her new location into the log, but something about doing it this time felt ... wrong. Instead, she quickly pulled on a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, a jacket, thick socks and boots. That should be enough. Scooping up her gym bag, she passed the desk where her laptop and mobile lay. Glancing at them, she decided to leave them exactly where they were. If this trip was going to be like the others, she would need it to be the same way. Nothing that could trace, track or locate her. An ornate key rack displayed many keys for high-end sports cars, but a single set drew her attention. The keys were old for a vehicle many years before, a gift for graduating top of her class. It wasn't much, but it was the best thing ever given to her, the only true gift she had ever received. The trip would be made in this one. Nodding, she took the keys, knowing the order would automatically rearrange in the next five minutes and something else would be in their place.
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Leaving the apartment, Cherry walked two blocks before flagging down a taxi and giving an address as off the grid in a city you could hope for. Soon she would be free ... no more notations, login procedures or daily debriefs, and other security measures implemented since the loss of her parents.
"We're here," the cab driver called, twisting around and calling out a number that seemed a little high for payment, but Cherry didn't care and handed him the money.
Climbing from the car, taking in the area, she noticed many security cameras. Playing a hunch, Cherry entered a hotel that housed a restaurant, paid for a room, and ordered a meal to be delivered to her room. She took the elevator and found the floor quiet and empty. Checking both ways before stepping out and finding her room. A lamp flickered on when she flipped the light switch. The subdued light felt calming. Not something she ever had at her apartment. It was either total darkness or light. This ... was warm, calm and absolutely wonderful. Easing onto a soft, lush recliner, Cherry sighed. Oh yes, this was definitely what she needed. The realisation slammed into her snapping her eyes open.
"My meds ... I didn't bring them," a giggle erupted as she flopped back, "I didn't bring them ... and I don't have to worry about taking them ... a holiday indeed."
A knock at the door with a "room service" call announced her meal. She paid for it before bringing it into the room. It was one of the last things her father had said to her if you're on your own, never allow anyone in your space. He was telling her more about why when the car hit them, sending them to the shoulder of the road. Since then, she had never allowed anyone near her or in her apartment. Not even Sam had been to her apartment. Cherry had a different phone she used to communicate with her friends. Keeping work life and private life very separate. Now she was glad of it. The cabin remained undisclosed to everyone. Not even the lawyers of her trust fund knew anything about it. She planned to keep it that way; perhaps she shouldn't sell it. It was the only item left to her by her mother. There may be a reason for it. Who knew, but it would be wonderful to get there again. After eating some of the food and packing the remainder away, Cherry pushed the trolley outside the door, closing and locking it. Switching off the lights, gym bag in hand, she made her way to the last room in the suite and counted to twenty.
Why?
She had no idea, just something she had always done. Sliding the window up, Cherry climbed through, carefully lowering the gym bag to the metal landing. At three in the morning, no one should be watching fire escapes. Cautiously she pulled the hood of her black track top over her head and face, hopefully making it difficult to spot her. Reaching the ground, her eyes snapped to a sound in the alleyway. Pressing against the wall, she waited. An old homeless man staggered from behind a metal container brimming with trash bags. The smell wafting to her almost made her gag. Covering her nose and mouth with a hand, she waited for him to leave before crossing into an intersecting alley and following the maze for fifteen minutes before stopping in front of a large storage locker.
Looking down at the keys in her hand, she swallowed. Everything her parents owned was in this locker. Something she had set up when the trust's lawyers asked what she wanted to be done with their things. Precious to her ... items to them ... she had never been able to rid herself of their meagre possessions ... not in five years. Unlocking the door, she slid it open, smiling at the old truck in good condition. Pushing her gym bag into the front seat, she climbed in, pausing before turning the key ... it still started. She grinned.
Pulling out, she stopped, climbing out and manually closing the locker, locking it once again. She had a universal remote for these things, but it felt wrong to use it. Glancing around, Cherry dropped the remote, crushing it under her boot heel before getting in and driving away into the night. Every few moments checking the review mirror to see if she was being followed. So far, it didn't look like it; you could only go right with being overly cautious. Another thing her father said to her, when you think you're free, you're probably not.