Escaping Parker - F.T. Zele Page 0,9
done in order to disappear. I barely remember my old social security number as it is, so having to learn a whole new one is going to take some time.
“I have to get a picture of you so I can get a new ID made, but we have to change your appearance first. You can either wear a wig, or we can dye your hair. It’s up to you; I have both here.”
I take a moment to think about it. My hair is a small part of me, yet such a big step. Once I change it permanently, I’ll lose every bit of me, the only me I’ve ever known. I decide on using a wig for now, knowing if I ever decide to dye my hair, it can be done easily. I need to take baby steps in this whole process, fearing it might get too overwhelming and have me running back to everything I’m familiar with.
“Mark, I’ll just use a wig, if that’s ok.”
“Of course it is. Here, in this bag there is a bunch of different ones you can choose from,” he says, opening up one of the bags.
“I’m sorry.” My cheeks flush hot. “This is all just very hard for me to understand at the moment. I’m not usually this indecisive.”
“I know it’s a lot to grasp right now. It’s a big decision to up and change your life like you did. I’ve seen it, and I’ve also seen what happens when they can’t handle it and go running back. That’s not something I want to see happen to you.” Sympathy’s written all over his face.
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Almost twenty-five years now. I know what it takes to get someone to run from their life. It’s going to be hard, but it will get easier as time goes on. I promise,” he assures me.
I start looking through the wigs, trying them on, seeing which one looks least like me. After ten minutes, I finally find the one—something I would never do to my hair. It’s a dark brown, straight bob-type style. I look in the mirror, repeating the name Parker over and over in my head, begging for it to stick.
“I’m ready to take the picture,” I say sadly.
“You look fine, let me get the camera. Stand against this wall here and stay still.”
He looks through the camera and snaps some pictures, blinding me in the process. “Ok, got it. I have to email this to someone real quick so they can get the ID to us at our next stop. I’ll be right back, ok?”
“Sure, is there anything to eat? I’m starving.”
“Of course. Just keep the door locked and I’ll bring back something.”
I nod and he walks out the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts, and it’s terrifying. I sit back on my bed, trying to not be scared of being alone in this foreign place. Even though I have been alone for a while, this is different.
I don’t quite understand how my heart can be dead, but beating at the same time. It breaks for the loss of my family, and what they are going to think when they hear I’m gone. The pain that will follow with them thinking I’m dead and never hearing from me again. Then I think of how they would feel if they knew what I was living with, They would be proud of me for taking a stance, and getting away to save my life.
I distract myself by pulling the bag of wigs closer to me, trying them on again. The instinct hits to check my phone, and I keep looking around for it, all the while knowing I had to give that to Andrew. I feel useless.
The door handle shakes, and I panic thinking Steven has found me. I roll off the side of the bed, crouching down trying to hide, grabbing my chest as it tightens up in fear.
The door opens and closes fast.
“Clarissa?” Mark calls out.
“I’m here.” Relief floods me while I slowly creep up from my hiding space.
“Are you ok?”
“Yes, yes I’m fine. Sorry, I just heard the door jiggle, and I thought it was him. You don’t know how many times he has found me.” Standing up, I drop my head, feeling ridiculous.
“When he found you before, it was because you did it all by yourself. Well, you aren’t alone this time. We all have discretion in the matter, and nobody knows I am here.” He reaches out a