"I have to go." The wistful girl announced; paled. The phrase aimed to no ear in particular died out much like the peppery ashes dirtily coating the ground. Dust settled, abandoned whimpers melodically weaved and bounced, people clung desperately to one another with their eyes brimming in watery questions in search of solid answers; through the now homeless sea of her former neighbors she felt a heavy sympathy, and she couldn't watch it anymore. She grabbed nobody's eyes with her own to punctuate her leave, as this sort of sentiment could break her resolve to flee before dealing with the situation. However, anyone who knew her would catch the sugary-escapism cradled safely within the words like a Botticelli cherub staring up adoringly to its surrogate.
The tone was hurried; she was disoriented, confused. Nothing of the brand shone through on her features as she strolled stiffly away a few paces and paused to her group, save for the dominion of scattered thoughts that had hiked up a wide, clouded glisten in her eyes. She wasn't too sure she was free of Lucy. She felt as if she could still feel, hear, sense her memories, the quiet emphasis of her thoughts, but, that could be due to her imagination, she'd countered, her imagination which was quite vivid, ample, and fragrant.
As she continued to back away, tightening the belt on her jacket, she told them softly. "I'm taking the subway to Manhattan. I'll be at the Imperial Court hotel, upper west side... I know the owners. Anyone wants to share with me just call in a few hours and ask for my room."
The chilling thought of the full moon occurring in less than two weeks startled what seemed a sound plan, but what if they were free? What if she was normal now? She could walk away unworried.
And if she wasn't, well... Manhattan was probably going to have a massacre.