The profound headache was not what Sierra wanted to wake up to. She had been partying at the bar, getting the best out of the last day on vacation. She didn’t know the country or people, but she had always found it easy to make friends. The warm body next to her suggested that it had gone a bit beyond friendship.
“Ow…” she grumbled, cradling her forehead in her hands as she sat up and the room spun unapologetically around her. She did have a limit when drinking shots and champagne it seemed.
A glance at the man brought back some fuzzy memories. He had been there from day one the past week. Almost from when she sat foot in the city, he had materialized by her side. He was kind, polite and handsome but she had not intended it to go this far.
She was not unaccustomed to waking up in other people’s beds. It was one of the boons of living in the modern world after all, a woman could enjoy herself, seek satisfaction and fun without it being scowled at by others. She didn’t seek out intimacy either though. She walked where the road lead her and got the most out of life – that was the whole point of living was it not?

Quietly she stepped out of the bed and gathered her things. Her body ached and she huffed with a grin as some of the night’s acts came back to her. It had been the best night with a man she had ever had. She would definitely not mind getting a rerun, but whether she would ever come back here was doubtful. She loved to see new places, to travel the world and meet people. Going the same place twice was not what she usually did, so she settled her mind with the fact that it had been good – and she was better with the experience now than never having had it. Still, as she stood at the door and looked over his sleeping form she felt a strange sense of wrongfulness. Like she should stay here with him. She didn’t even know him, yet something deep in her mind begged her to stay. She pushed the feeling away and snuck out of the house – it was massive and she almost got lost three times, trapping herself in bedrooms, an office and a massive poolroom. If she had that much money she would travel the world, never working a day in her life.  

After a quiet taxi ride, she stepped into her hotel room and started packing. She could make her flight with relative ease as she knew she liked the last day party and planned it accordingly. She showered, feeling some of the headache lift in the warm water. As she washed herself, she frowned when her fingers passed her neck. Just at the nape of her neck over the collarbone, she was sore and felt coagulated blood peel of her skin. “What the- “she cleared the mirror as she stumbled out of the water to inspect the wound. Or wounds, as it turned out. Four punctured holes were in her skin. Two on each side of her shoulder. Like something had bit her. She had no memory of that… She did remember a weird sensation at the height of one of the night’s many, many heights. She had felt like se was flying, like her senses had gone to a whole new level. He had been good. Almost to good. She had turned to putty in his hands, and it had seemed so perfect. Yet the bitemark didn’t make sense. The bruise was fresh too, so it was from last night. “Freak…” she muttered, more at him than herself. She would get a medical check when she was home, she always did when she ended up with someone.

She wrapped a scarf around her neck, hiding the ‘love bite’ and pulling her dark hair into a high ponytail. Then she grabbed her stuff and got in a taxi to the airport. Her fingers absently tugged at the scarf as she thought of him and felt this strange feeling in her gut again. Like sadness and doing something wrong. She had never felt that before. Never felt remorse when she left anywhere, yet it was the closest feeling to describe it.
As she got on the plane a pang of pain hit her. It flushed her neck, making the wound hurt and she hissed through gritted teeth.
“are you alright miss?” a man asked as she had grabbed his seat in surprise.
“Yes… I… I stubbed my toe” she replied in a flustered voice. The pain grew to anxiety, and her heart started beating hard in panic. What the hell was going on? She closed her eyes, steadying her breathing. Everything was fine. Sure, she hated that her vacation was over, she wasn’t keen on going back to work, but work was necessary to save money for the next trip. So why did she feel panicked?
As the plane took off it was like a cord breaking in her mind. Like someone pulled the plug on the container of pain and anxiety. The feeling rushed her and left her sobbing. The woman next to her mistook the reaction for being scared of flying but Sierra just appreciated the comfort, no matter the cause.

At the airport the feeling had subsided to a dull ache. Like a slumbering depression, a feeling she knew from her younger years. It was a feeling of sadness and hopelessness she couldn’t explain. Her phone went crazy when she turned it on, messages bombarding her from the week off. She had told her dad, and her boss and colleagues that she had gone on vacation for a week and that she would not answer anything before she got back. It seemed the news hadn’t reached her mom who had sent about 47 texts and called her 13 times. The last text was 5 days old and berated her for not getting permission to go away, for not bringing her mom and for being selfish. Oh, the joy of having an overbearing mother. Sierra had not had a lot of contact with her mom the last 10 years, but she would usually answer a message if her mother wrote, which she rarely did. It was just her luck that she had texted a few hours after Sierra turning off the phone. “Damn..” Sierra sighed and made her way back to the small apartment. A note hang on the door from the local police department, asking her to check in with them, as they had been there on behalf of a ‘concerned citizen’. “really mom?” she tugged the notice down and got in, phoned the number on the note and explained. The kind lady reassured her that they had been aware of her trip as they had contacted her bosses to figure out if she was okay. Sierra apologized profusely and tried to explain that her mother was a nutjob, and the lady assured her that they dealt with many parents like that and was prepared for such encounters. Sierra thanked her and hung up. Her bosses would be quite amused by this.

Being 26 years old. Sierra had expected to be treated as an adult. But it was clear that her mother would never really let go. She had drawn the line over and over, and her mother tried to cross it just as quickly as Sierra stated it. At least she had her dad, which reminded her of reaching out to him, so she called his number, and he picked up quickly.
It was a pleasant conversation, she told him about the mountains, the quaint little villages, the museums and people – and conveniently left out the night with a stranger. He was happy that she had had a good time, and she got caught up on his week, his wife having troubles with her son, and of course that Sierras mother had reached out despite the restraining order. Great. Her parents had divorced when Sierra was 15, and her mother had fought to deny Sierra contact with her dad. Luckily, he had fought harder and she had kept both in her life.
She adored her dad’s new wife, a calm and practical woman a few years older than him, and with a son on Sierras age. He was a pain in society. Always dunk off his ass and usually asking for money so she pitied her dad and stepmom.
A text was sent to the few friends, and she fell asleep scrolling her phone on her bed, tired and sad though with no reason to be so.