Leaving

The black car peacefully rolled under the hot morning sky in the middle of the highway. Soon enough we would reach our destination—the airport— which is only one hour drive away from the Crawford Mansion. I sunk deeper into the front seat, clinging to the available warmth I could take to console myself from my unknown fate. The thought of leaving was enough to rattle my nerves and I fidgeted on my seat, anxiety and fear eating me inside. Until now, I couldn't believe I'm leaving Cordova. God knows how long it would be before I could successfully return, perhaps it would take me a year or two to come back here.