I'll Pack My Bags and I'll Never Look Back

She has a home somewhere, but the only time she visits it is for the library. Some say she’s an eccentric billionaire, others think she’s a danger to herself and to others. She’s been thrown in asylums by so-called friends, only to bust herself out and travel far away. They call her the Woman with the Suitcase, and when asked about who she was, she gets a distant look in her eyes and says “I don’t know”. Her suitcase is full of souvenirs from places she’s been, and she’s been everywhere. From the largest cities to the smallest villages, she has photos and stories. Her boots are worn and don’t match most of her clothes, but she’s never without them.

“Where did you come from?” People ask. 

“From the stars, and from the seas.” She responds, “From cities and from lands untouched by man.” 

Her eyes tell stories of war she’ll never remember, and of loss she’ll never experience again. She’ll eat breakfast with a group of people and tell them of her travels, and they’ll ask if they can journey with her. She laughs and is gone by the time the bill arrives. The people who have the misfortune of meeting her become infected with her wanderlust, and find themselves dreaming of places they’ll never be able to go. She remembers the names of every person she meets and often goes back to meet them for a meal.

“Why do you travel?” They ask her over tea in England or paella in Spain.

“There’s so much to see,” She says, “I won’t sit and let life pass me by because of what society expects me to do.”

She doesn’t know that she’s running from a home that was razed to the ground during a battle of ideologies. A map covered in notes and scribbles is her only companion, and she sits in train cars surrounded by boxes and watches the stars. She can name every constellation, and they’re painted across her face in the form of freckles on skin damaged by the harsh sun of the desert. When she gets caught sleeping on the train without paying for a ticket, she talks her way out of trouble. By the time the authorities stop imagining what it would be like wandering through the Amazon Rainforest, she’s gone.

“Why do you run from the law?” They yell as they chase her, sirens wailing their displeasure.

“Why would I stay?” She shouts back as she hops on another train and loses the police over country borders.

One by one, cities send out warrants for her arrest. One by one cities withdraw these warrants, to the confusion of the lawmakers who demanded she be put under lock and key. No jail can hold her, so she continues on her journeys. She dances in the rain and basks in the sun, and people wonder how she can be so carefree. Jealousy leads to less friendly faces waiting in restaurants to pay her way, but she doesn’t mind. She never needed anyone before, so why would she need people now? 

Somewhere deep inside, she cries out for someone to tell her that everything will be alright. She doesn’t know where the voice comes from. 

So she keeps doing what she does best. Traveling the world with her suitcase and her map, and the broken hearts of those she left behind. 

She seems to never grow older and she never gets sick. The only time she was in a hospital was when she broke her arm falling out of a tree. It was the longest she ever stayed in one place. The doctors asked her to talk to the patients who were closest to death with no hope of getting better. Her stories left them smiling and laughing, and they passed with her memories easing them into the afterlife. She eventually left, a tug on her soul pulling her westward.

“If you ever need a place to stay, we’ll be glad to have you back.” The staff told her.

“I won’t.” She told them, getting a ride with a stranger and going far away.

When her house burns down she forgets she ever owned it. She doesn’t remember her mad dash to save as many books as she could, or the people who taunted her as she ran.

We know your past. We know what you’ve done.

She remembers the call to adventure, and she remembers how to run. That’s what she does. She runs and she talks about her adventures. If she stops talking, the memories will come back and she doesn’t know what she’ll do. She travels faster, and she starts bringing people along with her. More often than not they’re left behind and she continues like they were never there. 

“Why can’t you slow down?” They ask as she leaves them in the dust.

She has no response, so she stays silent and forgets.

She travels the world, and when there’s nowhere else to run, she does it all again. The people who called for her arrest feel nothing but pity now at a woman who can’t escape herself. Her boots fall apart and she sings on street corners for the money to buy a new pair. Her suitcase goes next, spilling its contents on the side of a road. She leaves it there and doesn’t look back. She goes back to the hospital that promised her a job and she tells her stories once again. When she has enough money to replace her suitcase and items within, she leaves without saying goodbye. The staff is sad to see her go, but they’re willing to wait for her to come back. She meets with old friends who have taken to traveling after she left them, and they exchange their stories over food. Like old times, she is gone before it comes time to pay, and her friends laugh. She goes to parties and parades, sees wonders and terrors, and faces them all with a smile. 

“What are you running from?” People ask.

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she does what she always does.

She forgets and she continues to run.