Prompt Writing #8

Prompt [veiledinspiration]:

"I walk through the burned remains of my home and, sure enough, just like he said, the box was there amongst the remains, unharmed."

Randomly Chosen Story and Character: Midnight at the Iston Diner, Jenny

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

What was left of the one-story house wasn't the most welcoming structure. Everything that was going to fall down already had, but scorched chunks of wood beams, drywall, and bone still cluttered everywhere. The acrid stench had faded, but it still overwhelmed the smell of grass at quite a distance. The whole spectacle seemed utterly out of place when the air was so cool.

Thankfully, the fire hadn't spread to the neighbors. They didn't need to get caught up in this whether they knew her or not.

Well, hopefully they had been caught up in it enough to believe her death. It was the only way to cover her tracks at this point. And by fire, ironically enough.

It was still worth the risk to come back. She had obscured her features, of course, and it was a bit early for anyone around to be awake. There was still some risk, granted, but who would be staring at the burnt supports by now? 

Compulsively clutching the front of her jacket, Jenny took several quick, light steps up to the rubble. It was supposed to be where her "body" had been. Not far from her bed, in other words.

Ah, if only she could wander around here in as little danger as Charlie had faced. He didn't even have to leave if he didn't want to. Just choose another name, another body, and move on. But he was a good friend to her instead. Even disguised the bones to match hers.

The metal frame of the bed was still recognizable, although soot coated the bronzed surface. It took a bit of feeling around and too much light clattering, but she eventually wrapped her fingers around the box. Its wood nearly rough enough to give her splinters, it was a rectangle about the size of a sixteen-ounce cup. Definitely what she was looking for. Scooping it into her arms, she took another brief look around her old home before hurrying off towards the trees. 

She didn't dare stop until daylight was breaking. Far from her neighborhood, she found a fuel station and stopped in. It wasn't one she frequented, and the handful of people inside would provide a little cover. The box in her front hoodie pocket, she walked calmly around the aisles and went into the bathroom. No surveillance.

She had felt some weight in the box shifting around, but she went ahead and opened it up. The little hinges squeaked as she looked at the contents. A folded note, as well as a large wad of cash. She flipped through the bills to count them—plenty—before putting them deep into her jeans pocket. Tucking the box under her arm, she grasped the note and unfolded it.

Already found a place up north. Small town, but friendly enough. There's an old diner at a good price if you want to try that again. I'll meet you there.

Charlie had signed it with his first name only beneath some scribbles. They were unlabeled, but she could tell from the shape what roads they were supposed to be. A large dot was on a side road a while from the interstate. 

It was a good distance to walk, but, with a few bus stints here and there, it wouldn't be bad. 

Putting the note in her other jeans pocket, she shut the box and left the room. She silently paid for a bottle of cream soda and walked out of the store. The box found its way into a nice patch of grass out back.

And she walked north.