I listened as Chris talked, wondering who was on the other end. When he had hung up, I bugged him to tell me, throwing in a fake pout just for the hell of it.<br/>I looked around at the fields and felt an ache in my chest. "Jess would have loved it out here." I muttered before I could stop myself. I reached into my sweatshirt pocket and pulled out my phone. I quickly took a picture of the huge hay filled fields and send it to my sister. Once I was done with that, I laced my fingers through Chris's and held on for dear life. I dropped my head against the head rest and closed my eyes for a moment.<br/>I thought about the good things that have been happening. The fact that I was out of my parents house, away from the memories that bother me and the life that was ruined. I sighed, rubbing my eyes with one hand.<br/>"Babe, do memories ever haunt you?" I asked, referring to the recent beating I had gotten from a random kid. I absently touched the scar on my collar bone, feeling the small nick in the bone from where the knife had stuck. I flipped the sun visor down and opened the mirror, making sure my shirt covered the ugly scars. I hadn't shown them to anyone yet. No that I was scared of them,<br/>Well. Okay. I am, I'm scared of what people will think of me when they see them.<br/>Not even Chris would see them. I stared at the ceiling, I ran a thumb over the scars, much colder than the surrounding skin. My skin heated to the touch, as my anger spiked as I let my mind wander over the past year.<br/>The only thing keeping me in the truck, other than a seat belt was Chris's hand in my own. I held on a bit tighter, wishing I was able to give him everything, as he deserved. Not just pieces but a whole person.<br/>I pointed to a building off in the distance. "That's a mall, I bet you." I said, trying to pull myself out of my funky mood.