I need to finish this novel that I've been writing for 200 years.

March 23rd, 2017

2:07am

 “I used to really enjoy musicals,” said Nicola, her voice trailing off.

I didn’t say anything in response. Nicola doesn’t usually speak unless prompted, I felt as though she might say more if she forgets that I’m next to her.

She started gently rubbing a scar on her left arm.

  “I don’t remember what the first musical I watched was. I just remember I was with my mom and she was singing along to it. She had the prettiest voice, my mom; I wish I could hear it now. Musicals were the closest thing to happiness for me because they reminded me of my mom. I only ever watched musicals with her.”

Nicola closed her eyes and leaned her head against the taxi door.

  The outside noise was reduced to a hum inside of the taxi and the driver has said nothing to us since we told him that we would give him three thousand dollars to drive until we told him to stop.

  I looked at Nicola and wondered if she would want me to try and comfort her. She’s never seemed like she’s needed comforting. But sitting next to her in the taxi made me realize how small she was and how fragile she must have been at one point. I couldn’t figure out whether or not she had fallen asleep, so I decided not to touch her.

We have been driving for a while now and the distance meter in the cab tells me that we’ve been driving for 29.5 miles. Although there will be people sent out to look for us in the morning, at this point no one is looking for us.

  “Do you think that we could rent ‘The Wizard of Oz?’ I love that movie.” Nicola’s voice is barely a whisper and her eyes are still closed. I can’t tell if she is actually speaking to me or if she’s talking in her sleep.

“Miles?” she said, “do you think that we could rent it?”

 “Oh, uh, of course,” I said, realizing that she is awake. “If we get out of this alive, I’ll buy you the movie.”

“If we get out of here alive, I want to see a play on Broadway. With you.”

Nicola sits up and looks at me, her piercing dark eyes staring straight into my soul.

“Thank you,” she says. “Even if we don’t live to see next week, you have made me happier than I have been in years. I mean… I would rather die fighting than be kept as a slave.”

Nicola rests her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes.

I rarely ever know what to say to her; I’ve never met a girl like Nicola.

I’ve never been in a situation like the one I’m in.

I’ve never had to run for my life.