Chapter Text
Robin waited at the train station, her bags enclosed around her and her ticket strangled in her palm.
This was it, there was still a moment for her to turn around and go back home. Robin hesitated for a hot second before she peeked up to check the time for her departure. Twelve o’clock. Just hold on for thirty more minutes.
Her heart and her mind were in a scuffle, both yelled and screamed at each other. Pieces of her wanted to fix this. But how? How could she never face Nancy again? She couldn’t even face Vickie, she didn’t have the heart even after the breakup. She couldn’t fix the poor minded idiots, she couldn’t wipe away their second-natured hatred. But the tiny, tiny optimistic in her wanted too, while the majority of her knew this was the only option.
She was being hunted like a goddamn freak. It was just a waiting game to see when she would be beaten into some oblong box and shoveled in a backwoods dirt grave. Robin knew deep down inside, that the fragments of her heart wouldn’t magically heal with a hop, skip, and a jump away from this small town. She felt stupid, but what was she to do?
The crowd around her looked like her. Men and women in a determined hurry to board their train or steal the closest stop to the front of the never ending line. Some had mounds of luggage and different sized bags while others had nothing but the clothes on their backs, all caught up in the pace of the masses. Everyone was running away from something.
God, this place made Robin more depressed. She peered down at her shoes, the whites of those beaten converse were littered in sharpie doodles. She couldn’t own a single thing without putting her own style on it, her own signature. Her eyes scanned over each mindless drawing, random planets with rings, a couple logos of her favorite bands, a silly little ghost. Then, a small and not so skillfully drawing of a bull’s face. The horns were different sizes and lopsided and the lines were just, well, shitty .
She almost forgot about it, and how it made her laugh. Only Steve could draw something so awfully. Robin asked him why a bull, to which he replied “Because you’re always steppin’ in bullshit.”
“Steve, I usually walk behind you.”
He blinked at her. She could practically see the wheels in his brain almost fly off the axis. Then, a grin slowly took over his face. “...Bullseye, baby!”
The memory made her eyes raw all over again. Her heart broke a little more from her guilt. Her only friend in this world and she didn’t even leave a note. What kind of asshole was she? The guilt morphed into a knife that sliced across her heart.
Inside her body was an ocean that couldn’t relax. A relentless storm that stirred and stirred, the waves crashed against her ribs. Her chest tightened as the flood poured into her stomach, it was coated in a thick fuzziness. She felt sick. Could she really do this? Just leave everything behind and move on? She hesitated again.
Robin felt like a coward. She was no better than her father, or any other stupid bastard out there. She breathed out shakily. Her eyes wandered to the clock. Twelve sixteen p.m..
God, She wanted to go back home. Not to her mother’s, but to Nancy. She just wanted Nancy.