I'm not much of a writer, but I have had an idea lurking in my head for quite a while and have written a few things down here and there. Maybe someday I'll get it put together into a real book. In the meantime, the prologue for this book that I had already written seems to fit the October theme - On My Own. So, here it is.

Where does a person go when she has no name, no history, no driver’s license, no..anything?

She ran, knowing they would be coming after her just as soon as they realized she was missing. She glanced over her shoulder as she moved, relishing the sight of the lab getting smaller with distance. About 20 miles outside of Las Vegas conveniently put the place squarely in the middle of nowhere. Nobody to see her.

She ran steadily, knowing she had to put serious distance between herself and that lab as quickly as possible. Fortunately, running wasn’t a problem for her, as long as she avoided areas where she might be noticed. UN-fortunately, the long run gave her plenty of time to think. What would she do now? What could she do? She had no friends, no family. No one to turn to for help. She had to find a way to disappear.

It took 35 hours for her to reach Houston. She had chosen it randomly, hoping that would keep them from figuring out her destination. She slowed to a walk as she considered her next move. She wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. She needed a wig at the very least. She stopped while she was still in a rural area, and settled down behind some thick brush, waiting for dark. She didn’t want to, but the only thing she could do was break in somewhere and steal some clothes and a wig.

It was very easy, really. Her training ensured that. She disabled the alarm system without any problem, and expertly jimmied the lock. She was careful not to disturb anything more than absolutely necessary. She removed the dirty white jumpsuit and pulled on a blue cotton sundress, slipping her feet into a pair of cool sandals. Apparently transvestites weren’t interested in jeans and t-shirts, judging by the contents of the little cross—dressers’ shop she’d found. Skirts and dresses all the way. But they had what she really needed - wigs.

Winding her pale hair into a knot on top of her head, she tucked the stray hairs in as she slid a long, straight-haired wig over her head and checked herself in the mirror. As she’d hoped, the strawberry blond worked well with her pale coloring – she looked like she could be Irish, maybe, with the fair skin of the red-headed. Much better. Almost..normal.

Taking her discards with her, she reset the alarm as she left. Most likely, no one would ever even realize she had been there. Nonetheless, she noted the name and location of the store. She would repay them for these “purchases,” someday. She was done being the bad guy.

The question now was, what would she be?